


Mr. Congeniality

by pawns (driftingstar)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Action/Adventure, Assassins & Hitmen, Comedy, Crossdressing, M/M, Minor Character Death, Spies & Secret Agents, Undercover Missions, beauty pageant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9253490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driftingstar/pseuds/pawns
Summary: Potential Miss Universe candidates everywhere are being murdered so a secret agent has been hired to infiltrate Maiami City's most popular contest.To his absolute horror and disgust, that agent is Yuugo.Eventual Pawnshipping. Tags to be updated.





	1. Setting the Stage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Collectible](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Collectible/gifts).



 

 

“Kill me,” Yuugo begs.  “Please.  I don't care how you do it, just kill me. I don't even care if it's messy.”

The voice from his earbud sounds distinctly unimpressed.  “You haven't even made it inside the hall yet.”  

“But I don't _wanna_ go.” Yuugo proceeds to glower at everything in sight, particularly at the other contestants that are slowly pulling in.  And the news trucks.  National coverage. On television! His hands go to grip the armrests as he digs his heels in.  He is not leaving this car. “This is a bad idea No, this-- this idea is shit .  My cover’s gonna be blown sky high as soon as I step through those doors!”

“Can you just relax?” his handler sighs.  “We didn't have another choice. We’re short-staffed as it is.  It'll be over in a couple weeks.”

“Weeks,” Yuugo repeats it like it's a death sentence. “You can't expect me to keep this up for _weeks_!”  

“It's not that bad.”

Yuugo slams a fist against one of the bulletproof windows and makes a couple of angry gestures, forgetting that he couldn't actually be seen.   “ _They_ _waxed my fucking legs!_ ”

“Among other places, yes. I've heard.  At length,” comes the exasperated response.  “I'm sure you look _fine_.”

“Fine? _Fine_?!” Yuugo splutters.  “You know what?  Fuck you, _fuck_ _you_ , Kurosaki.  We’ll see how ‘fine’ _you_ look when I strap _you_ in a chair and rip every _single fucking hair_ off your balls with a tweezer!”

“I’m hanging up,” Kurosaki replies, deadpan.  “Have fun.”

“ _No_ \-- wait, I’m sorry,” Yuugo apologizes hastily, holding his hands together as if in prayer.  “I'll go crazy if I'm in there by myself.  Please don't go. I need you.”

He hears a quiet groan and the telltale sound of Kurosaki’s palm smacking against his forehead. He’s going to have a permanent mark there at this rate. “Just.  Go do your job. Remember, the safety of the contestants depend on it.”

Yuugo sighs and valiantly resists the urge to drag his hands over his face and ruin his make-up.  He had been scolded enough times.  To the point he can still feel the phantom ache in his fingers from being smacked.

“I get it, I get it,” he says despondently, thumping his head on the back of his seat.   He takes a deep, steadying breath and expels it through his nose. “No… I gotta face this. Like a _man_.”

Ignoring the deep irony in that statement, Yuugo pushes open the car door and steps out into the sun.

And his long evening gown billows after him.

Snow-white with layers of translucent chiffon in a hi-low hem falls around his thighs, accentuating the pale curve of his smooth, completely hairless calves.   Hours of brushing and judicious application of hairspray means that his normally unmanageable spikes now fall around his shoulders in soft, silky curls.  Big, crystal blue eyes peer out from beneath naturally full lashes that are even fuller from with mascara. A touch of shimmery lip gloss and a white silk ribbon around his neck completes the look.

Basically, at this moment, Yuugo is so far from resembling a man that it causes him physical pain. But he sets his jaw and squares his shoulders as marches up to his humiliating fate.

His conviction lasts for all of three minutes until he nearly trips on the steps at the front entrance, his ankles bending hazardously in his elegant, strappy heels.

“... I’m gonna  _die_ ,” he whispers in horror.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, Yuugo makes it to the reception hall, all too aware of the stunning beauties milling around. He is so out of his depth that it’s not even funny.

He doesn’t have the first clue as to what he’s doing.  A last minute reshuffling meant that Rin, the original case agent on this job became unavailable and Yuugo had been called into the Boss’s office.

_“Hm. You’d fit a size zero, wouldn’t you?”_

Yuugo remembers feeling a chill go down his back at that cryptic greeting, a feeling that only grew worse from there. Almost immediately afterward, he had been whisked away to the most hellish boot camp in the world where they tried to carve about fifteen years of knowledge of all things girlish into his body. He had been scrubbed from head to toe, forced to walk around in stilettos with volumes of encyclopedias on his head, and had every last trace of his male dignity stripped away.

Though, by far, the worst part by far had been when they made him try on the _dresses_.

 _“That’s a relief,”_ the agent in charge of disguises had said as they poked him full of pins. _“Looks like we can get away with minimal alterations.  You’re lucky you’re about the same size as Rin since we already had the costumes premade. It’s a bit tight around the hips, though.”_

Yuugo certainly doesn’t feel lucky.

His debrief had been as follows: apparently, _Miss Universe_ candidates have been dropping like flies.  Conveniently coming down with rare illnesses, hospitalized from freak accidents, until eventually, the runner-up from last year's Miss Heartland had been found floating face down in a hotel bathtub.  It didn't take a genius to begin speculating; the net had been buzzing with conspiracy nut job theories for months.  

So naturally, the organizers decided to hire a private security firm for insurance. And while posting guards everywhere is all and good, it doesn't beat having an agent on the inside that could keep tabs on the contestants.  Go places that no one else could go.  And on the off chance that one of them turned out to be a killer, who better to weed them out?

For strategic reasons, only the owner knows that one of the contestants is a plant.  As far as anyone else knows, their agent would have passed through the private screening process just like any other candidate.

There is just one glaring problem; there's no way that Yuugo can possibly look like anything other than a dude in a dress.  With luck, Yuugo won't even get past the _preliminaries_ and he can rip off this horrible dress and go back to being the man he is inside.  Hell, maybe they'll throw him out at the door and spare him any further humiliation.

  
“Ah, Miss Yuuko, from Satellite City,” the guy at the reception greets him as he claims his participant's badge. #15.  It feels more like a prisoner's barcode than anything.  “You look even lovelier in person.”

Yuugo nearly drops the badge.  “T-T-Thanks...?” he stutters out, taking a couple steps back. _Lovely_ ? Did this guy forget to bring his eyes? Who exactly does he think he’s calling ‘ _lovely’_?!

The receptionist smiles and leans in closer and makes Yuugo’s skin crawl.  “Is this your first time participating?  Don't worry, I'm sure someone as _cute_ as you will do just fine.”

Yuugo manages to out something incomprehensible before immediately beating a hasty retreat, his heart hammering in his chest the whole time.

“Oh my god, that was so weird,” he mutters to himself, clutching his purse to his chest.

He ends up jumping when Kurosaki’s dry voice blares across the comms, “Aren't you popular.”

The only reason why Yuugo doesn't call him mean names out loud because the interview hall is full of _people_.  Real girls, all dressed up to the nines with perfect hair and gorgeous makeup, chatting idly on benches as they awaited their turns before the judges.  Yuugo’s jaw nearly drops at seeing so many of them in a room at once. It makes sense since this area is restricted for candidates.  A quick glance tells him there are at least thirty girls here.  

But the contest will feature just eight.

Apparently, a few of them had caught his wide-eyed terror, judging by the disdainful looks and sneers that are beginning to be sent his way.  He hurriedly gathers up the pieces of his composure and plunks himself down on a mostly-empty bench in the back, all the while feeling completely sorry for himself.  All the judges would have to be blind, deaf, and _stupid_ to put him through to the finals.  

If it were Rin, she would win their hearts in a heartbeat.  If it were Rin, in Yuugo’s heavily biased opinion, she would win it all.

This is discrimination, he decides.  Discrimination against short and ever so slightly effeminate agents.   He'd love for _Kurosaki_ to get saddled with something like this.  Just _once._

 _“So,_ ” a voice suddenly speaks up.  “Who are _you_ supposed to be?”

Yuugo blanches ever so subtly as he looks up, half expecting to see a group of armed security guards waiting to escort him out.

 

But instead, staring down at him with various degrees of disdain and amusement are two tall, _drop-dead gorgeous_ girls with hair and legs that seem to go on forever. One blond and one silver and both look like they just stepped out of a high fashion magazine with their matching gowns.  Next to them, Yuugo couldn’t be more out of place if he tried.

“Um,” he says.

The golden one sneers openly while the other who looks like could be her sister giggles, a soft, musical sound that resembles the tinkling of bells.

“I don’t remember seeing _you_ at the preliminaries.” Blondie’s voice is practically dripping with disdain as she takes a step closer and puts a hand on her hip.  Her shoulders are squared for what is probably maximum intimidation.  Although it also has the side effect of showing off her, um, assets.  Which Yuugo is definitely not staring at.  Nope. Not at all.  “How exactly did a little nobody like you get through, hm?”

Yuugo sort of just gapes up at her in response.  Luckily, he is spared from answering when the silver one giggles again and steps forward to press an impeccably manicured finger to his cheek.

“Aw, don’t bully her too much, Gloria,” she says, sounding nearly friendly if it wasn’t for the slightly unsettling glint in her eyes.  “She’s so… small.  And cute. Not like an adult at all.”

Blondie, who is apparently called Gloria, scoffs, and her gaze seems to travel down to Yuugo’s… chest? “She’s _small_ alright.  It’s a wonder you made it to the preliminaries at all.”

For some reason, Yuugo gets the vague impression that he’s being made fun of, but he can’t exactly pinpoint why.  Well, it’s not like any guy would be happy to be called _small and cute_ but at the moment, he’s not supposed to be a guy.

“But her skin is _so_ soft,” Silver practically coos as she pokes his cheek harder.  As much as Yuugo really wants her to stop _doing that_ , he’s also sort of scared shitless about blowing his cover.  He’ll never hear the end of it from _anyone_ . Not the boss, not Rin, and _especially not goddamn Kurosaki Shun._   “What’s your secret?”

What _is_ his secret?  “I… drink milk?” Yuugo ends up stammering out the first thing on his mind and almost immediately regrets it.

“Hmph.  I’m sure that’s what you did,” Blondie sneers with a toss of her hair that Yuugo couldn’t help but follow the cascading golden strands with his eyes. “Just a word of advice. Don’t think that your _milk-drinking_ is going to win you any points here today. You’re just going to have to pick up a _new_ talent.”

With that cryptic response, the girl flounces off with her sister in tow and a far too pleased expression on her face.  Leaving Yuugo sitting awkwardly by himself on the bench and wondering what just happened to him. He plays the encounter back in his head a few times but it seems to make less sense each time he replays it. Kurosaki snickering in his ears also doesn’t help.

He vaguely notices that the contestants that had been in earshot have now turned away to whisper amongst themselves and giggle into their hands. And they’re all _staring_ at him, in an odd, deliberate way that makes him feel like he’s being judged.

 

Real girls are terrifying, he concludes, sinking further down into himself.

It’s almost a blessing when his number is finally called and he literally can’t get out of there fast enough.  


Although, it might actually be a case of ‘out of the frying pan, _into the heart of an exploding supernova’._

The last time he felt this nervous, Yuugo thinks as he stands before the panel of five judges, was when he had nearly been gunned down by a firing squad whilst on assignment in the Sargasso.  He surreptitiously checks to make sure his legs aren’t shaking as he forces himself into the chair.  And very deliberately does not look into the cameras.  

“So, Miss Yuuko,” one of the judges. “Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself? Why did you decide to join this pageant?”

Yuugo takes a deep breath and reaches for the introduction he had painstakingly memorized.  And comes up blank.

There is a long, awkward pause as he stares up at them in horror.

“Miss… Yuuko?” the judge tries again at the same time as Kurosaki hisses, “ _Yuugo, if you fuck this up, then so help you_.”

Yuugo squares his shoulders and sets his jaw.  There’s no way he can afford to just sit here like an idiot when _Kurosaki fucking Shun_ is listening in.

He prays for strength.

During his boot camp from hell, they had swiftly discovered that getting Yuugo to act with any degree of femininity or display any qualities that a winning beauty pageant contestant ought to have… was frankly impossible.

However, Yuugo does have two saving graces. One, he loves mimicry and two, he grew up with the cutest girl in the history of the world.

Unleashing one of Rin’s soft, bashful smiles, he cocks his head to the side while twirling a strand of hair around his fingers as he proceeds to channel his best friend like his life depends on it.  

“I’m Yuuko, from Satellite,” he says demurely with his hands in his lap, peering up at them through his lashes like Rin did when she was feeling shy. His voice somehow manages to come out in the soft alto that he had spent ages practicing and he can slowly feel his nerves steadying.

He draws an inconspicuous breath and closes his eyes. He pictures Rin’s smiling face, encouraging him on.

When he opens them again, determination settles over his features.

“My hometown isn’t very big, or prosperous. Just the opposite.  The orphanage I was raised in was always trying to make ends meet and there wasn’t always enough food to go around.  When I was growing up, I always dreamed of being someone. To go places and to see the world. And I guess, I wanted to show the other kids back home that you can make your dreams come true.  That we can be anything we want.”

He flushes a little when he realizes he’s completely gone off script and it sounds startlingly sincere, even to him. Because every word of it is true.  Although, he never quite pictured himself to be… _here_. In a goddamn dress.

Hastily, he adds, “S-So, being here today… and maybe winning Miss Universe will make that dream come true.”

When the only thing that meets his monologue is silence, Yuugo looks up nervously.  The dazed expressions on the judge’s faces are not at all encouraging. Were they falling asleep?   One of them even noticeably shakes himself, before stretching his lips into a trembling smile. And his eyes are _watery_.  Was he bad enough to make them cry?!

“Miss Yuuko,” the judge says and Yuugo nearly flinches.  “I think I speak for everyone here but… we would like to extend to you our warmest welcomes and we sincerely hope you enjoy your stay here in Maiami City.”  

“Um. T-Thanks?” Yuugo says, blinking slowly.  Now that he takes a closer look, the judges are all faintly smiling.  Some of them even look a little red.

The nerve-wracking interview continues just as strangely from there.

To ‘Who is the most influential person in his life?’, he doesn’t hesitate to talk about Rin, practically glowing as he chatters about how the two of them did absolutely everything together.  Obviously, he has to leave out the finer points, like infiltration and espionage and the odd assassination.  At ‘What would you do with a million dollars?’, he has to think on it, but in the end, he decides that he’d like to donate the funds to funding orphanages in his hometown to make living conditions better. But if there was anything left over, he would love to take Rin to see Paris.

But for some baffling reason, no matter what he says, the judges all end up smiling at him and nodding as they jot down notes which really makes it difficult for him to tell how he’s doing.  By the time it’s all over, he really hopes that the cold sweat on his neck isn’t visible.

“Thank you so much for coming, Miss Yuuko.  It was a pleasure to meet such a sweet, conscientious young lady as yourself. Please, return to the waiting area to await the results.”

Yuugo just nods along with Rin’s warm smile plastered over his own lips as he mumbles back some kind of pleasantry.  He’s out of his seat and down the hall the instant the judge finishes talking.

As soon as he’s alone, Yuugo collapses against the wall, hands clutching his purse like a lifeline as he tries to catch his breath.

“Never again,” he wheezes, seeing his life flash before his eyes.  His ass feels numb from sitting on that godawful chair and his ankles are starting to swell up from rubbing against the straps too much.  

He groans into his hands.  “Shit, I totally blew that, didn’t I? I couldn’t remember a _damn thing_ . I spent _hours_ memorizing Rin’s notes!  She’s gonna kill me, isn’t she?”

Yuugo pauses, taking a moment out of his misery to prod at one of his earbuds to check that they were still on.  Kurosaki had been oddly silent.  Normally, he isn’t one to waste a chance to tell Yuugo exactly what he thought of him.  

“Uh, Kurosaki...?”

After another awkward pause, since Kurosaki apparently fancies himself the King of stilted silences and misunderstandings, he hears him clear his throat.  “You… didn’t do as bad as I thought you would.”

“Wow, thanks.”  Yuugo groans and rubs at his temples. Of course. Only an idiot would expect something like sympathy from someone that emotionally constipated.  “I _told_ you this was a shitty idea.  Next time _you_ can wear the fucking dress.”


	2. Meet the Cast

It is with great regret that Yuugo trudges back into the waiting all.  Filled with all those  _ girls _ .  Out of the corner of his eye, he spies a flash of silver and gold and definitely does not flinch.  Nor does he shuffle his sore feet faster.  He doesn’t have to look to see the sneers plastered to their faces as they watch him wobble unsteadily back to his bench.

 

However, this time, there is someone else already there, sitting in his spot like she owned the entire hall.

 

Yuugo swallows. The newest girl is possibly even more beautiful than the terrible duo from before.  Long, graceful limbs are stretched out on the bench so luxuriously that it makes the uncomfortable wood look like a velvet throne. Waves of deep, violet hair tumble down her shoulders in a waterfall of silk.  But her magenta gaze is cold enough to burn, gazing down his nose at him like an ant beneath a magnifying glass.

 

As a trained agent who survived countless skirmishes and went toe to toe with death, his battle-hardened senses are all screaming at him to  _ not engage _ . Naturally, he does an awkward pivot and jerkily changes course, trying his best to pretend that he had meant to head in an entirely different direction.

 

Until something cold and bony closes around his wrist like snake fangs puncturing into vulnerable flesh.  Yuugo flinches bodily and then mentally kicks himself for it.  He’s a  _ secret agent _ , trained for years in the ways of combat so that means he’s not supposed to be intimidated by some random civilian girl.

So he turns around  _ like a man  _ and subsequently loses his entire nerve when he sees her smile.  Magenta eyes glitter with amusement and the curl of her lips makes him think of a scimitar; sharp and deadly as it cuts across her face.  Something in her eyes looks almost serpentine as they regard him like a predator sizing up its prey. 

 

_ Medusa _ . The Greek myth suddenly springs to his mind. Tales of a beautiful maiden transformed into a monstrous form with venomous snakes for hair and all who gaze upon her face would become as stone. That would explain the petrification that seems to have settled in his limbs as he stares helplessly into her eyes.

 

“Why, hello.   _ Yuuko,  _ was it? From Satellite?” she says slowly as her smile stretches and grows.  Her voice is soft and smooth, like warm velvet wrapped around poisonous barbs and it sends a shiver of something down his spine.

Yuugo only manages to nod mutely, distracted when Kurosaki suddenly decides to be helpful by reading him her profile. Yuuri, representing Domino.  And apparently one of the favourites to win it all.  She had appeared from nowhere and blew her competition out of the water.  Literally.  They all started resigning left and right.  Apparently too intimidated by her presence to even stand on the same stage.

 

Or perhaps, Yuugo thinks, she just turned them all to stone with her face. 

 

“Y-Yeah?” he blurts out, hunching his shoulders defensively as he tries to subtly shake off her vice-like grip.  For a civilian girl, she seems unusually strong.  He can't even get her to budge a millimeter.

 

“I'm from Domino, myself,” Yuuri practically purrs as she not so subtly pulls Yuugo in closer.  “Sister cities, with such a  _ close _ history.  Why, doesn't that make us practically sisters ourselves?” 

 

No.  No, it definitely does  _ not _ . First of all, Yuugo isn't a girl! 

 

But the words stubbornly stick in his throat when Yuuri presses a cold hand to his face, blood red nails curling around his cheek.  

 

And he flinches back as if electrocuted, practically ripping his hand from her grasp. But rather than look offended, Yuuri  _ laughs _ .  She delicately covers her mouth as her shoulders shake with mirth but it does nothing to hide its mocking lilt. 

 

“Why don't you have a seat,  _ Yuu-ko _ ?” she pats the bench next to her as suggests in a tone that does not sound like a suggestion.  Yuugo eyes the spot dubiously like it might suddenly sprout tentacles.  

 

“No thanks,” he tells her at the same time the speakers blare overhead and drowns out his voice.

 

“Will all contestants please be seated and look for your number on the board.  If you see your number, please exit the hall.  Thank you all for being with us today.”

 

The camera crew suddenly moves in, lenses zooming and whirling as they try to capture the girls’ excited and nervous faces.  

 

Yuugo sits as far away from Yuuri on the bench as humanly possible.  It still only leaves about a gap of just a few inches between them and he can  _ feel _ the amusement rolling off of her.   Heart pounding, Yuugo decides to focus his attention on the screen so he doesn't have to look at the predatory looks that he knows  _ Medusa _ is sending his way. Because every time he sneaks a worried glance at her, those uncanny eyes are firmly fixed on him instead of the screen.

 

Is every girl here going to be this  _ scary _ ?

 

He scoots a little further away, eyes glued to the seemingly random numbers flashing overhead, along with an instruction to exit out to another hall. 34, 9, 27, 11… 

 

The room grows increasingly emptier. And with every additional girl that departs, Yuugo’s anxiety levels rise. His eyes flicker to the remaining contestants, noting that the duo menaces were sitting further up ahead, curled up together with self-satisfied expressions.  He can't help but make a face of his own as he looks away, dislike curling in his belly.

 

Yuugo tries to fill in the tense seconds with people-watching.   There's a honey blonde in what looks like a western-inspired gown, and another one with long, straight black hair who is wearing jewels worth more than his entire paycheque. On the other side of the hall, he spies another girl with blue-violet hair, sitting ramrod straight as she watches the screen with an unwavering intensity that makes him feel tired just looking at her. 

 

“Nervous?” Yuuri suddenly whispers against his ear which makes him jump a foot and clutch his purse to his chest like a shield.  He shoots his newest tormentor a weak glare, not liking how she was making his already short nerves fray. Or how she had suddenly gotten so close without him realizing, propping her chin up with her fist and still smiling that sharp smile. 

 

“Of course not,” he lies through his teeth and leans his head away with a huff only to flinch again when a weight suddenly drops on his shoulder and Yuuri’s silken locks cascade over his bare arm.  Before he can yell or jump or do anything else to protest, one of Yuuri’s arms suddenly snakes around his waist and it stuns him so much that he just sort of… sits there in dismay as the scent of lilacs drifts through the air.  

 

“W-What are you doing?” Yuugo had meant for it to be a reprimand but his voice comes out more like a squawk. It takes a valiant effort not to do something really cover-blowing like punching a potential Miss Universe in the face.  He’s supposed to be a lady and ladies do not resort to violence when they feel uncomfortable. In theory.  

 

In theory, any guy should be pleased to have such a beautiful girl draping herself over him but Yuugo just feels vaguely harassed.  

 

His shoulder vibrates from Yuuri’s answering chuckle. “Your shoulder just looked so comfortable,  _ Yuuko _ . I hope you don’t mind lending it to me. This process is just so tedious.” 

 

“Tedious.  Right,” Yuugo repeats faintly, watching another blonde girl with hair shaped like a butterfly leave the hall.  Is it normal for girls to be this… touchy? She's just a girl, he repeats to himself.  A bit too friendly and  _ weird _ but it's not like she's doing any harm.  And technically, the whole point of Yuugo being here is to  _ protect  _ these girls. 

 

Right? 

 

Yuugo had been so busy fretting about Yuuri that it takes him a full minute to realize that the numbers had stopped appearing and a hush had fallen over the hall.  He sits up a little straighter and looks around the room, mentally tallying them up.

 

He only counts seven girls now.

 

His eyes widen when the double doors suddenly open and the panel of judges walk in and lively music suddenly plays across the speakers. 

 

“Congratulations, ladies! You are now officially finalists on this year's Miss Universe!  Could you please make your way up to the front?” 

 

The crowd that had somehow gathered in the room when Yuugo hadn't been paying attention erupts into applause and cheers and he finds himself suddenly having to blink bright spots out of his vision as the cameras explode into action. 

 

Yuugo vaguely remembers being steered out of his seat and he probably blanked out for a few moments because the next thing he knows is that he's standing on the stage and staring down into the audience.

 

The cogs in his head grind to a halt. 

 

Wait. 

 

_ Wait _ .

 

If there are supposed to be eight finalists and  _ Yuugo _ is still in here… 

 

… doesn't that mean he passed?!

 

A complicated surge of emotion bubbles up in his chest as he tries to figure out if he should be pleased that he can continue his mission or be sort of horrified that he had been a more convincing girl than like thirty other actual girls. 

 

“Isn't that wonderful,  _ Yuuko _ ?” Yuuri’s warm breath practically caresses the shell of his ear like a premonition of doom as she laces her arm through his.  “We’re going to spend  _ so _ much quality time together.” 

 

Yuugo settles on horrified.

 

“...um, can you like. Let go of me now?  Please?”

  
  


In all the years he has worked with him, Yuugo doesn't think he's actually ever been  _ happy _ to see Kurosaki in person.  Tall, dark and brooding Kurosaki who always scowled like someone burnt down his home and kidnapped his sister.  Today, though, he's out of his dumb ragged jacket and in a black suit with sunglasses and Yuugo thinks it sort of makes him look like a knee breaker, rather than a respectable member of society. 

 

“ _ Kurosaki,”  _ he practically sobs as he limps down the goddamn staircase to where he awaited him with his luggage.  “Kurosaki, I  _ can’t _ do this, there's no way I can do this. Can't you get like, Yuuto or someone to switch with me or--” 

 

Whatever he had been about to say next is abruptly cut off when Kurosaki abruptly grabs him around the shoulders and crushes him to his chest. 

 

“Kurosaki,” Yuugo’s voice comes out slightly muffled against his chest as he inadvertently grabs onto his jacket to steady himself.  “What the  _ fuck _ \--”

 

Kurosaki steps back before Yuugo can knee him in the gut, with his face still contorted into that eternally sour look. 

 

“Checking for bugs,” he says by way of explanation and Yuugo bristles at the insinuation that he wouldn't notice. It was just  _ one time. _ “One of the contestants is in a coma.  They found her unconscious in the bathroom. Number 4.” 

 

“ _ What _ ?” Yuugo hisses, grabbing onto his lapels.  “Why didn't you  _ tell _ me?!  That's sort of important, you know?!” 

 

Kurosaki’s face turns even more pinched and he doesn’t look at Yuugo. “You were already falling apart. I made the decision to wait.” 

 

Yuugo sort of just gapes at him in disbelief as he not-so-subtly pinches himself in the elbow. The pain makes his eyes water but Kurosaki doesn’t look any less real.  He shakes his head a little to clear it as a tiny bit of hysteria bubbles up in his chest.

 

Nah.  There’s no way Kurosaki would ever be  _ considerate _ to anyone who isn’t his sister.

 

Grimness settles over Yuugo’s features as cycles through his memories, mentally projecting a map of the interview hall.  “Number 4… There wasn’t anyone with that badge number.  I thought it something didn’t add up…” 

 

For a moment, they share a stony silence as they mull over the implications.

 

“Medical condition?” Yuugo asks quietly.

 

Kurosaki’s scowl turns several notches more frightening.  “No history.  Or any signs of physical trauma.  Not even a puncture mark.”

 

Damn. “Surveillance?” 

 

“Footage only shows her entering the bathroom.  All others were accounted for.  And no, there are no hidden vents or entrances where an assailant could have hidden.  It’s a  _ bathroom _ .”

 

“What about the doctors? Was there a diagnosis?” 

 

“Hmph. The incompetents can’t find anything wrong with her.  Just that she’s not waking up and her vitals are fading.  They're still waiting on her blood work.”

 

Yuugo groans, once again resisting the urge to rub his face. The competition hasn’t even started and he’s already exhausted.  “Murder mysteries ain’t my thing. I never care how they die.  It's not like knowing how will bring them back.”

 

“She’s not actually dead.”

 

But the  _ yet  _ hangs in the air between them.

 

Eventually, Yuugo sighs.  This sucks.  “I don’t get it. Why go so far just for some dumb crown and a bit of cash?”  

 

Twenty grand isn’t anything to sneeze at, it’s not really worth  _ killing _ for either.  Hiring an assassin would cost you at least that much and that’s not even including tips. It’s hard to find a reliable hitman, nowadays.  He doesn’t really want to think too much on it anymore.  It makes his head hurt.

 

Kurosaki only shrugs, having had enough of being helpful for the day.  “Just focus on protecting the other contestants.  Keep your eyes open for anything unusual.” 

 

Yuugo rolls his eyes and grabs his luggage from him.  Luckily, everything fit in one big, wheeled suitcase so he can drag it behind him as he walks into hell. “Like you need to tell me.” 

 

With his head held high, he wobbles out of the lobby into the elevator. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where I'm going with this. Blame Collectible. 
> 
> (Feedback is so appreciated. )


	3. Girl Bonding

 

As soon as the elevator doors close, Yuugo collapses onto his luggage and holds his head in his hands, dully watching the red digits increment through the gaps in his fingers.  With the frenetic atmosphere in the hall and Yuugo’s own nerves, he had been more concerned with not falling on his face than doing his actual  _ job _ .  There’s a dying girl in a hospital and it happened right under their noses. His nose. Yuugo had been in the same building and he hadn’t even  _ realized  _ it.  As much as it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, Kurosaki was right to lecture him.

 

If anything, it makes him that much more determined to succeed. To do that, he needs to  _ focus _ .  Observe his surroundings. Keep the contestants in his sight at all times.   He’ll make sure no one else gets hurt, even if it kills him.

 

“Alright. No more fooling around,” he vows to an unseen audience, hands curling into fists. 

 

Before he knows it, the cab comes to a stop and a gentle ping is all the warning that he gets before the doors slide open.  Yuugo swallows as he rolls his bags out and feels his ears pop annoyingly. 

 

And stops dead.

 

His jaw drops when he realizes he has stepped into a lavish parlor that could have fit half of an olympic-sized swimming pool. Everything practically oozes with decadence from the crystal chandeliers and the bizarre modern art.  Even the walls are lined with transparent curtainwalls that gave a perfect view of the sun as it dips beneath the skyline of towering glass structures. 

 

But the part that concerns him the most are the very familiar girls that are spread out across the white leather upholstery of the largest sofa he has ever seen.

 

Two pairs of nearly identical eyes, one gold and one pink swivel in his direction almost as soon as he steps inside the room and it immediately sends chills down his spine.  Yuugo tries to take a step back but the elevator had already slammed closed with an ominous sort of finality.

 

“Oh my,” the silver one purrs, slowly uncrossing her legs as she sits up a little straighter. The girls had changed into shorter, more casual dresses that looked every bit as glamorous as they had when they first turned up to harass him.  “Look, Gloria.  It’s that  _ adorable _ little girl from before!”  

 

The gold one turns as well, raking her feline eyes down Yuugo’s body as she sneers.  “So it is, Grace. It makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Just what kind of  _ talents _ she must have shown the judges today.” 

 

“Uh,” Yuugo says, eyes darting down at the directions in his hand as he reads them again. To his dismay, they’re not any different from when he read them the first time. 

 

“Now, now, ladies,” the honey blonde sitting primly on the other side of the room speaks up with a slightly stiff smile on her face that looks just a bit pasted on. Kind of like a television announcer. “Since we’re going to be living together for the next few weeks, we should all try to get along. Right, Serena? Masumi?”

 

She turns a little helplessly over at the other two girls sitting in her vicinity but as far as Yuugo can tell, they don’t look the least bit interested in bonding.

 

One of them just scoffs and flicks her long, perfectly straight hair, that Kurosaki’s sister probably would kill for, over her shoulder. “I don’t care what you do. But I’m not here to  _ make friends _ .” 

 

“Same for me,” is what the blue haired one says simply. She looks up and for a moment, her cold eyes lock with his briefly and an odd sense of deja vu washes over him like he’s seen her from somewhere before.  

 

It probably isn't important.

 

“I’m just going to… go unpack?” The last word ends up coming out as more of a question as Yuugo hastily gathers his bags.

 

Now that Yuugo has finally met the other competitors, he absolutely cannot wait for this mission to be over.  _ Scary _ , a little voice screams in his head.  Girls are scary.  Even Rin could be pretty terrifying too when she gets mad. 

 

He only manages a few steps before the scary sisters rise to flank him, effectively cutting off his escape route.  The scent of expensive perfume wafts through the air and Yuugo very carefully tries not to panic and accidentally send the very girls that he's supposed to be  _ protecting  _ to the hospital. He is so sorely tempted to when silver is suddenly up in his face and cooing.  “Aw, she looks just like one of my old dolls.  I could just  _ eat her up _ .” 

 

Yuugo’s eye twitches as his hands clench.   Well… hospitalization would be one way to keep them safe from a potential murderer.

 

“Let me through,” Yuugo says stiffly and his patience frays when his poor feet give another painful twinge.  “Please.”  But the girls only step closer, boxing him in like cats advancing on a small, trapped mouse and the claustrophobia he never knew he had suddenly rears up with a vengeance.  Especially when his back hits metal.

 

Then, without warning, the elevator suddenly opens and Yuugo finds himself leaning against nothing but air.  Naturally, he topples backward with a strangled yelp, hands grasping uselessly at the air.  He braces himself for impact, but rather than feeling his spine smack against cold, hard metal… he finds himself falling against something soft and firm.

 

A body.  A body with perfectly manicured hands that loop around his waist to steady him, red tipped fingers splayed against the white of his dress. The perfume in the air is displaced by the sweet fragrance of lavender and Yuugo’s horrible premonition comes to pass when sibilant syllables glide off a familiar tongue. 

 

“Falling for me already,  _ Yuu-ko _ ?” 

 

Yuugo does his best not to scream. Instead, he sucks in a deep breath and makes a valiant effort to wiggle himself loose.  “You--?” he stammers out, not so subtly trying to pry her vice-like fingers off.  

 

As if to spite him, Yuuri’s grip tightens and her chin comes down to dig into his shoulder. 

 

“Gloria. Grace,” she greets in honeyed tones that do nothing to conceal the poisoned barb in her words.  “What a pleasant surprise to see you've both  _ managed _ to make it through the preliminaries.” 

 

Yuugo watches in fascination as the sisters’ faces darken; the area around their eyes pinch and their lips curl in disdain.

 

“Yuuri,” the gold one sniffs, eyes flashing with a tangible dislike.  Her elegant posture is much stiffer as she glares down her nose.  Her sister, however, just continues to smile.

 

“And the same to you, Miss Yuuri,” she says with that musical giggle, but her yellow eyes are sharp.  “Didn’t you once say these little preening contests were beneath you? But here you are!  And in such a dress too. It must have taken  _ ages _ for you to get ready today.”

 

Yuuri’s pulse is perfectly steady against Yuugo’s back as she lets out a theatrical sigh.  “Sadly, yes.  You wouldn't know this but winning all the time can get so dull and tedious.” She gives a light toss of her hair and Yuugo shivers when its silken texture rains back down on his bare shoulders.  “But I realized it would be a crime to keep such beauty sequestered away, wouldn’t you say? It’s a tiresome job, but someone needs to… liven up this competition.” 

 

It is like watching two trains collide.  Terrifying, messy, and fascinating.  But mostly terrifying.  The gold one is openly sneering now and her demeanor seems to swing from antagonistic to feral.  “Is that so?” she asks dangerously.  “You should watch yourself. Who knows? Maybe you might piss off the wrong person and end up face down in a bathtub?” 

 

Dismay flashes across Yuugo’s face and he's not the only one.  Even Grace seems to wince as she reaches out for her sister's arm.  Even the other three girls seem to be paying closer attention. The blonde one looking openly horrified while the other girls’ stony faces grow flatter.

 

But then Yuuri laughs like Gloria said something hilarious, a deep, full-throated laughter that vibrates through Yuugo’s body. “Is that a confession?” she asks, sounding absolutely thrilled.  She continues to chuckle as she finally detangles her arms from Yuugo’s waist in favour of lacing their hands together.  “I don't mean to cut this  _ delightful  _ little chat short, but my adorable little Yuuko and I still need to unpack our things.  Right, dear?” 

 

It takes Yuugo three whole seconds to realize that  _ he's  _ the one being addressed.  Undercover names are hard.  He takes one look at the seething sisters and then at Yuuri’s self-satisfied grin.  

 

“Right,” he says faintly. It's not much of a choice.  Stay out here in this  _ painfully _ awkward room, or subject himself to whatever horrors  _ Medusa _ ’s razorwire tongue could put him through.  He at least remembers to grab his luggage before Yuuri whisks him off, leaving the other girls behind. 

  
  


Further down along the halls and out of earshot, Yuugo clears his throat awkwardly. 

 

“Uh,” he says, fishing around for something to say to break the brief, but unnerving silence.  Yuuri is still holding onto his hand and Yuugo feels rather like a rag doll, being dragged around by a sinister puppeteer. He’d gone to see a show with Rin before, full of blank-faced marionettes with long, dangling limbs.

 

Yuuri takes his lapse into nostalgia as a cue to stop.  She turns, effectively pinning Yuugo in place with the intensity of her undivided attention.  She smiles, blood-red lips curving into an arch as she gazes down at him with those reptilian eyes.  

 

“Yes, Yuuko?” she purrs and Yuugo gets the distinct feeling that she is laughing at him.  He takes a moment to observe her, mentally cataloging everything that he knows about her.  Everything that he's observed. 

 

There is something  _ not right _ about Yuuri, he decides.  It is a gut feeling that makes his whole body tense up just from being in the same room as her.  In the place of every soft touch and every sigh, Yuugo’s instincts had expected the bite of steel or the sting of thorns. There were other things that didn't add up.  Most troubling of all, Yuuri hadn't been in the room until  _ after _ his interview.  He definitely would have noticed her.  Everyone else was accounted for with one other glaring exception.

 

He has read her profile (or rather, Kurosaki read him her profile) and he doesn't need to have a degree in psychology to know something is fishy when a stuck up, antisocial beauty queen suddenly decides to make nice with a nobody. 

 

“Why did you do that?” he ends up asking, narrowing his eyes.  Yuuri doesn't fit amongst the other neatly slotted pieces and that makes her dangerous.   

 

Yuuri’s smile only widens.  “Do what?  I've done many things so you'll have to be a bit more specific, sweetheart.” 

 

Yuugo does his best to keep the irritated suspicion off his face and manages to school it into something passably neutral.  He’s supposed to be a  _ lady _ .  A gracious young lady who’s here to fulfill her dream and therefore will be keeping her head down and not antagonize anyone. The first step of gaining the upper hand in any interrogation is to keep your cool.  Besides, he can only imagine what the boss will do to him if he manages to screw up on the  _ first _ day.  “I mean, why did you talk to those girls like that?” 

 

“Why?” Yuuri repeats back at him, tipping her head to the side in apparent confusion as she presses her index finger to her lips.  “It’s obvious, isn’t it?  How could I stand by and do nothing when my adorable little sister is being bullied?” 

 

There are so many things wrong with that sentence that Yuugo isn’t sure where to begin his protest.  

 

“I wasn’t being bullied!” he exclaims reflexively because Kurosaki is still listening in and Yuugo would never hear the end of it. Never. He’s been in more gunfights than he can  _ count _ so there’s no way he can let a couple of would-be beauty queens intimidate him.   “Those girls were just… being friendly.” 

 

“Of course they were,” Yuuri says in a deliberately gentle way; the kind you use on toddlers or old folks with memory issues and it makes Yuugo bristle.  Particularly when she reaches up to pat his head. “No wonder the Tylers wanted to make you their toy. It's a rare treat to have such a  _ defenseless _ little creature in the finals.” 

 

Not at all liking the look in her eyes, Yuugo immediately back steps to dislodge her hand as his neck prickles with gooseflesh. Why does she keep  _ touching _ him?  “I'm not a toy,” he says crossly, anger and annoyance leaking through his practiced facade as he stares squarely into Yuuri’s reptilian eyes.  He has to consciously unclench his hands, letting his fingers unravel and hang at his sides. “And I'm not defenseless. So leave me alone or… or else.”

 

Something flickers through Yuuri’s eyes at Yuugo’s declaration and her smile grows sharper.  Yuugo can almost feel the jagged edges of her amusement digging into his skin as she invades his personal space in neat, soundless steps.  He belatedly realizes he might have made a terrible blunder if Yuuri is not who she claims to be. He swallows as his fingers automatically twitch towards a weapon that isn't there because goddamn Kurosaki had made him leave it behind.  

 

But rather than tearing out his innards like Yuugo sort of expected Yuuri to do, the stifling pressure abruptly lifts when Yuuri throws her arms around his shoulders and crushes him to her chest, all the while cackling like a loon.

 

“ _ Too cute _ !” she crows as she muffles his protests in her bosom.  One of her hands come up to pinch his cheek and Yuugo has war flashbacks of the time he got bullied into letting Rin braid his hair.  “You looked so  _ serious _ that I almost believed you!  And your  _ face _ … Pft!  How can you possibly be this perfect?” 

 

Yuugo manages to endure it for all of two reluctant seconds before he shoves at her shoulders with all of his might, gasping for air when he finally pulls his head free.  “What is  _ wrong  _ with you, you weirdo?!” he exclaims furiously, annoyance and oxygen deprivation staining his cheeks red. He's absolutely  _ had it _ . “Why do you keep… touching me and following me around?!” 

 

Rather than take apparent offense, Yuuri laughs again, but this time it sends ominous chills down his spine.  “Because…” Suddenly, she whispers into his ear in a voice at least an octave lower.  “You’re interesting.” Yuuri backs him up against the wall.  “You're new.” Her cold hands cup his bright red cheeks as her lips peel back from her perfect white teeth to form a shark-like grin.  “You're not like _other_ _girls_. Tell me, Yuuko.  Why are you in this competition?  What _drives_ you?”

 

This obviously sets off like a gazillion alarm bells in Yuugo’s head as he gapes at Yuuri in horror.  He immediately runs through their encounters, trying to figure out what went wrong. There's no way this girl could  _ know…  _ unless she felt him up without him noticing or something.  Yuugo doesn't think he's ever been tenser in his life. Even  _ Kurosaki’s _ stony silence sounds tense. “I… I don't know what you're talking about,” he stammers out, determined to deny any and all allegations until he's blue in the face. 

 

Yuuri clicks her tongue.  “Your mouth isn't very honest, is it?” she murmurs, glittering magenta eyes purposefully swiveling down to his lips. “Perhaps... it needs punishing.” 

 

A strangled noise spills out of his throat when Yuuri suddenly leans her forehead against his.

 

He can count out every single one of her long, full lashes, all curling perfectly from her half-lidded eyes. He should stop this. He  _ needs _ to stop this.  As soon as his limbs decide to listen to him again. Even this up close, Yuuri is stunningly beautiful; the curve of her nose, the arch of her cheeks.  In spite of himself, Yuugo finds himself spellbound.  Unable to tear his eyes away from her terrible beauty.  His pulse thumps in his ears like a countdown, marking the seconds as the gap between their lips steadily shrinks.  

 

But Yuuri changes angles at the last second and her red painted lips land on his cheek. 

 

For a moment, Yuugo is frozen, heat rising up into his face until it resembles a lovely, ripe tomato. His mind is barren of all thoughts besides the remembrance of petal-soft lips caressing his skin.  Yuuri draws back with a giggle, the tense, oppressive atmosphere vanishes like it was never there. 

 

“Just kidding,” she teases lightly, patting him on the head.  “You’re just too cute.  You can’t blame those girls for wanting to bully you a little.” 

 

Yuugo’s hand claps against his cheek like a shield.  “Huh...?” he says dumbly. Then he scowls, crinkling up his nose as he glares.  His annoyance burns brightly, fueled by the flames of embarrassment.  “Stop messing around! You… you singled me out for no reason, you… you jerk!  Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Yuuri’s words are clearly patronizing but for some reason, Yuugo thinks something about her smile is different. Like the jagged edges had disappeared.  It’s almost… soft.  Instead of elaborating, she winks and tosses her long, silken tresses over her shoulder as she turns gracefully on her heels.  “Well, it’s getting rather late now.  You’d better get settled in.  Unpack.  Meet your new roommate.”

 

Yuugo stumbles, horror clearly etched in every line of his face.  “Wait, roommate? What roommate? I didn’t hear about us having roommates?!” 

 

Yuuri kindly gestures behind him and Yuugo slowly turns, dread welling up in his heart when he reads the engraving on the silver plaque affixed to the door that he’s currently attached to. Two names.  His hopes shatter on the doorstep as his stomach plunges into the ground. 

 

“Poor thing,” Yuuri coos slyly.  “I’m sure you must be  _ so _ disappointed that we’re not sharing. But don’t worry, I promise we’ll still be spending a lot of quality time together.”

 

Yuugo is too busy gaping at the door to watch Yuuri as she departs, his mind whirling a mile a minute at how the hell he is possibly going to be able to  _ share a room with a girl _ and still keep his secret.

 

He is now aware of two things.

 

One, he’s screwed.

 

And two, if Yuuri  _ is _ the one responsible for all the deaths… then they’re all in deep, deep shit because he still can’t stop thinking about how soft her lips were.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ; w ; please let me know what you guys think because i have absolutely no idea if i should just scrap this


	4. The Roommate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps Yuuri would have made a better roommate after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, guys, this a bit of a filler chapter. Stuff will happen next time.

Yuugo isn’t entirely sure what to expect when he finally musters up the will to push open the gates of hell, a good minute after Yuuri had disappeared from sight.  

 

The room  _ looks _ normal enough if one’s idea of normal is to have the walls oozing with the same needless opulence that had plagued the rest of the floor.  He spies two massive silk-draped beds, a walk-in closet the size of Yuugo’s apartment, a mini fridge, and sheer curtains drawn over a set of sliding windows.  There is already a small pile of open suitcases next to the bed by the window, presumably belonging to his new  _ roommate _ .  Yuugo’s shoulders tense when he hears the shower running. This lack of privacy had certainly not been in any his briefings but even the best-laid plans often go awry.

 

He awkwardly drags his luggage over to the unoccupied bed and immediately flops face down into soft, downy heaven. Relief, sweet, unadulterated relief washes away the soreness in his muscles and lets the tension bleed from his bones.  He spends the next minute just vegetating there, only moving to kick his heels across the room in spite. Not even dodging and weaving through gunfire was at all comparable to the literal minefield that is dealing with a bunch of stuck up prima donnas.  

 

And fucking Yuuri _.  _ Who probably puts the fatal back into  _ femme fatale _ . 

 

“Yuugo,” Kurosaki’s sharp warning stings his ears. 

 

“Five more fucking minutes,” he groans back, burrowing himself deeper into the sheets like he wants to fuse with them. “Even  _ you _ would need five minutes after  _ that _ .” 

 

Especially since his heart is still thumping away in his chest like no one’s business and his cheeks are still bright from that heady but  _ unwanted _ warmth.

 

“You’re being unprofessional,” Kurosaki hisses and Yuugo can almost visualize the lines on his face deepening as his expression contorts.  “Don’t make me go up there.” 

 

It’s an idle threat since Yuugo knows Kurosaki absolutely hates having to spend any more time with him than is strictly necessary.  But he knows he’s still on the clock. It’s not like he’s at all intimidated by the senior agent.  Just to set the record straight. 

 

Letting out one more reluctant groan, he rolls himself slowly off of the bed and forces himself back onto his aching feet.  A precursory glance tells him that his ankles are just as swollen as he thought they were but he’s had far worse.  Casing out the place thankfully doesn’t take very long; just a precursory look around the perimeter, checking for bugs and other potential hazards.  And placing a couple of his own.

 

Just as he secures the last of his bugs to the underside of his roommate’s bed, he can hear the water stopping and estimates that he has another three minutes at least, judging by how long Rin takes.  Yuugo heaves a quiet sigh of relief as he digs out a change in clothes and his bath stuff.  He roughly shoves the rest of it back inside the suitcase just as the bathroom door opens. 

 

Stepping out from the gently curling steam is a classically beautiful girl with fair, porcelain skin with a faint dusting of freckles across her soft, delicate nose. Long, silvery hair entwined with strands of auburn gently curls around her narrow face.  Her eyes, however, are like two chips of steely blue ice as she gives him a disinterested once over.  

 

He freezes, staring up at her like a doe in the headlights when he realizes that she's only wearing a  _ towel _ . 

 

Luckily, she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care to comment on his staring and merely lets out a sniff.  “So  _ you're  _ Yuuko, then?” 

 

Yuugo can detect a faint hint of a northern accent and a not so faint hint of disapproval.  “Uh. Yeah,” he says, eyeing her like she might suddenly turn into Yuuri or something.  To his immense relief, his new roommate simply brushes past him to sit on her bed and starts to braid her hair without another word.

 

Maybe, Yuugo thinks hopefully as he shuffles towards the bathroom, this won't be so bad after all. 

 

“By the way,” she says without looking up. “You have lipstick on your cheek.” 

 

Nope, he takes it all back.  Everything sucks.

 

He yelps, clapping a hand to his face but the damage to his first impression was done and he could feel the waves of judgment rolling off the other girl.  Hastily, he makes his grand escape by diving into the bathroom and slamming the door shut and locking it swiftly behind him.  He takes a few moments to catch his breath with his back pressed against the mahogany, his heart pounding in his chest like he had run a marathon. 

 

Yuugo slowly slides down with both hands covering his burning face as he quietly dies of embarrassment. “Kill me, please,” he whispers, pressing his palms together in the shape of a prayer.  He continues to wallow in his misery until the sound of Kurosaki’s suspicious-sounding cough drifts over his earpiece.

 

Wait a minute. Was that a… a laugh?!

 

“Are you  _ laughing at me _ ?!” Yuugo hisses hackles rising as he bristles like a wet cat.  “I swear I’ll--”

 

Kurosaki is quick to interject, his voice flatter and drier than a desert as he sneers, “I am  _ not _ .” He sounds utterly disgusted at the notion that he possessed enough human qualities to express emotions besides anger and hate.  Yuugo is still not appeased, however, but he forces himself to take a deep breath and try for calm.  “There isn’t anything remotely amusing about having to listen to you make a mockery yourself. You’re a  _ trained agent _ .  Act like one.”

 

Yuugo’s jaw clenches and as much as he wants to protest, he knows he has a point.  So he accepts the criticism by ripping the earbuds spitefully out from his ears and hangs up on Kuro _ -shitty _ as rudely as he could manage. He pushes himself back to his feet and stomping around the bathroom like a belligerent child while muttering indistinct insults under his breath.  

 

He still feels off-balance and nervous, but he hasn’t exactly been able to de-stress.  Obviously, he has gone deep cover before, but not  _ this _ deep.  Usually, his disguises had been ill-fitting janitorial uniforms or bellboys. There was  _ one _ time where he had to pose as Kurosaki’s younger brother to sneak into a casino, but he hadn’t been expected to do anything besides slip away and disable the security.  Not… whatever the hell this is.  In all his career, he had been trained to  _ avoid _ attention and parading around in glitz and gemstones feels so horribly unnatural that it makes him want to cry like a baby.

 

By now, Yuugo had seen enough of this ridiculous hotel that the overly opulent bathroom doesn’t come as a surprise anymore.  Wall to ceiling mirrors, plush sofas, and even full-blownwn vanity, along with a jacuzzi that could fit at least three people.  Luckily, he also spies a normal shower in the corner of the room and hastily makes a bee-line for it.  He sighs and puts his towel and pajamas on a shelf as he begins to peel away his dress, all the while refusing to look anywhere but at the floor to avoid accidentally seeing his reflections.  It never failed to utterly weird him out to see himself in various stages of undress while he was playing the part of  _ Yuuko _ .  His disguise was convincing enough from certain angles that it made him feel like a pervert, peeping on some poor girl getting undressed. 

 

It was a bit of a struggle to unzip the back and even more of a mental struggle when he got down to his undergarments but eventually he manages.  He hastily stows the dress away and dives into the shower, letting the water run over him and wash away his worries.  At least, that was his intention. As if drawn by a troublesome magnet, his thoughts are inevitably pulled back to his encounter with that strange, unsettling girl.  He runs through their interactions, trying to dissect it from every angle but he's too distracted to come up with anything useful. Instead, all he can think about is the press of petal-soft lips fluttering against his cheek.  

 

He lets out a groan and slams his forehead against the wall. 

 

“Stupid Yuuri,” Yuugo mutters, hating how his pulse suddenly fluttered and an unwelcome warmth makes its way up into his cheeks.  He’s screwed.  So screwed. 

 

He finishes the rest of his shower more or less on autopilot, scrubbing off the makeup and working half a bottle of shampoo in his hair to get rid of all the product they had put in it to get it to stay  _ flat _ .  Shutting off the water, he steps out of the shower and stares at his reflection.  A teenaged  _ boy _ stares back at him with a displeased curl of his lips and and exhaustion in his eyes, but it's unmistakably  _ him _ with his wild spikes of hair and a very  _ male _ body. 

 

Yuugo sighs and reaches for the comb to begin the unenviable task of flattening his hair. It takes at least half an hour and by the time he steps back out into the room, wrapped in a big, fluffy white towel, the lights are already off and he can vaguely make out his roommate's form already tucked in the other bed. Yuugo takes her cue, crawling into his soft, luxurious bed and almost immediately sinks into a deep, fitful slumber, filled mocking laughter and violet serpents with slit-pupiled eyes.

  
  


* * *

 

Yuugo awakens with a start, shooting up in bed as he makes an aborted movement towards a weapon that he still doesn't have.  He blinks up at the unfamiliar ceiling with a look of consternation as the previous night’s events come flooding back.  He groans and throws himself back onto the wonderfully soft mattress and feels it swallow up his body again.  The only good thing in this ludicrous plan. 

 

The stupid lace on the hems of his shirt starts to itch again and he gives his skin a vindictive scratch. Someone at HQ must have a  _ repugnant  _ sense of humour because all of the sensible unisex sleepshirts he had given Kurosaki to pack for him ended up transforming into frilly nighties.  God knows why. It's not like anyone would be looking at him when he's  _ sleeping. _

 

A glance towards the faintly fluttering curtains tells him that it's still dark out; the first fingers of dawn are shyly climbing over the horizon, bathing the skyline in faint streaks of gold.  In Yuugo’s opinion, it's  _ disgustingly _ early.

 

Not that Kurosaki seems to agree as he greets him with a friendly, “ _ Finally _ . Now hurry up and set up the rest of the surveillance. I'm sick of watching you drool.” 

 

Yuugo regrets remembering to replace the earbuds. He replies by sticking an arm out from beneath his wonderful warm blankets and waves a rude finger at the camera over his bed.  “What, you'd rather watch a  _ real _ girl sleep instead?” he slurs back.  He feels triumphant for all of three seconds before Kurosaki opens his mouth. 

 

“I'm not the one wearing  _ women's underwear. _ ” 

 

“ _ Fuck you _ .” 

 

As much as he wants to go right back to sleep for like,  _ forever _ , he does know that every second he spends in his warm, perfect cocoon, another girl might be one second closer to getting seriously hurt.  He turns his gaze over at his roommate’s bed on the far side of the room where the braided girl is still deep in slumber, lying on her back with her hands clasped over her stomach. He sighs and gets in one last nuzzle before he reluctantly parts with his delightfully soft bedding and slowly drags himself up.  

 

To be honest, he looks and feels more like a zombie in a B grade horror film than someone who had been miraculously picked to be a _beauty queen_ _finalist_ , but he manages to go through the motions of brushing his teeth and washing his face.  He scowls at his reflection all the way through, squinting as he tries to line his eyes without stabbing holes in his corneas. A smattering of foundation and concealer did a passable job of hiding his dark circles but there was nothing he could do for his bloodshot eyes. Pulling his hair into a messy ponytail, he gives his reflection a critical once over before he gives up and quietly steals out into the hall.  Luckily, it seems like no one else is awake yet and quickly gets to work, setting up the rest of the surveying equipment as instructed; positioning cameras in clear sight of all entrances with a live feed directly back to HQ.  He would have to get into the rooms later, but for now, if one of the girls really _is_ a crazed axe murderer, it should be relatively easy to tell.  In theory.

 

With no one else the wiser, he slips back inside his room with a quiet sigh of relief.  Only to find his roommate wide awake and glaring up at him with steel grey eyes. He has to bite his lips to muffle a yelp.

 

“ _ What _ ,” she hisses and Yuugo stiffens at her sudden vehemence, “do you think you're  _ doing _ ?” 

 

“I was…” Yuugo stammers, half-wondering if Rin and Ruri are the only  _ not-crazy _ girls in the world.  “Getting… water?” 

 

She clicks her tongue and Yuugo finally recognizes that her face is crinkled in  _ disgust _ rather than suspicion. “Let me rephrase. What are you  _ doing  _ looking like  _ that _ ?!” She flicks out a hand with fingers tipped with impeccable blue polish and gestures at Yuugo’s… everything.  “Your make up!  Your hair!  You look  _ atrocious _ .  How did you even make it past the preliminaries?!”

 

Yuugo gapes at her in bemusement. “Uh--” he attempts to start but Olga cuts him off almost immediately when she reaches out to grab his wrist.

 

“ _ Honestly _ ,” she sniffs as she manhandles him to the bathroom.  “You might have a cute face and a cute body but it's completely wasted on you! You look so utterly  _ common _ .  You can't go outside looking like that!” 

 

“Why--” Yuugo splutters, his eyes glazing over in complete confusion as he tries to grasp his newest dilemma. “Why does it matter? The actual competition doesn't start until tomorrow, right?” 

 

If anything, the freckled girl looks even more scandalized as she drags him up to the vanity and more or less shoves him down to sit. “Doesn't matter?” she repeats back to him, her voice shrill. “Of course it matters! This competition is all about  _ image _ . Beauty is a  _ mindset _ , not just  _ painting your face like a harlot _ !” Without giving Yuugo any time to argue, she snatches a bag of facial wipes off the shelf with the air of someone going to war. 

 

“Stay still.” With that steely command, she immediately starts to attack his face with a vengeance, scrubbing away all the makeup that Yuugo had painstakingly attempted to apply.  He bears it with impatience, not so subtly trying to squirm away and bats at her hands. 

 

“Hey, cut it out,” he cries out, mostly concerned with how  _ close _ she's getting to him. “And why do  _ you _ care?  It's  _ my  _ face!”

 

“Of course I care!” she yells back, looking seconds away from shaking him. “You're  _ my _ roommate and I'm not going to let you walk out that door looking like a  _ drag queen _ ! It'll reflect badly on  _ me _ .” 

 

Yuugo stops struggling in favour of gaping at her and she takes the opportunity to finish wiping his face.  Is this, Yuugo wonders faintly, what they call ‘girl logic’?  He must have looked especially confused and pathetic because some of the ice in her eyes seems to thaw. 

 

“Listen,” Olga says as she starts to dab primer on his face and he reluctantly resigns himself to his fate.  “If you want to survive this competition, you can't give those  _ harpies  _ any ammunition! Eyeshadow that dark is  _ not _ a good look for you. Now shut up and  _ hold still. _ ” __

 

Yuugo opens his mouth to protest but Olga is now brandishing the eyeliner so he wisely shuts it again.  He continues to watch her face as she works, taking in the way her eyes narrow in concentration, the way her tongue pokes out between her teeth. She far more animated now than the blank faced doll that he had seen on stage.  Eventually, after layers of powder and intense blending, Olga steps back with a pleased grin. 

 

“See?” she says, turning Yuugo around to face the mirror. “Isn't that much better?” 

 

Even Yuugo had to admit it was.  The girl in the mirror looks like she belongs in a magazine.  Her flawlessly pale skin glows with a sweet, delicate blush and her eyes are so bright and luminous that they could be mistaken for jewels. 

 

“Wow,” he says faintly, having immense difficulty in reconciling the fact that  _ he's  _ the girl in the mirror.  Of course, he had his makeup professionally done yesterday but it doesn't hold a  _ candle  _ to this sheer transformation now.  “That's… that's amazing!” 

 

“Of course I am,” Olga says, crossing her arms with a huff, but Yuugo can spot a tinge of red in her cheeks.  “One day, I’m going to run a makeup studio.  Looking at you was just  _ sad _ .” 

 

Yuugo shakes his head in in disbelief, but sure enough, the reflection moves with him. He peers up at his roommate consideringly for a few moments before his lips curve into a bright smile.  Impulsively, he leans forward and gives her middle an affectionate squeeze.  “Despite how you look, you’re a really nice person!” 

 

“And  _ you’re _ a hopeless case,” she snaps and Yuugo watches curiously when her entire face suffuses with colour. “Wait, what do you  _ mean _ ‘despite how I look’?! Is that any way to thank someone?!”

 

Yuugo only laughs, all the while thanking his lucky stars that there is at least  _ one _ nice, normal person in here with him. Even though he's only here because of a mission, even though he’ll probably never see any of these girls again, he can't help but feel like he made a friend.  His newfound feelings of optimism are warm and sweet in his chest and lasts until Olga pulls out a hairbrush and a can.

 

“Now,” she says, with a vindictive glint in her eyes, “Let’s do something about that  _ disaster  _ sitting on your head.”

 


	5. Shooting for the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Yuugo's first gig is a smashing success.

“Stand straighter,” Olga mutters from the corner of her mouth.  “And stop looking so nervous.  You're making  _ me _ nervous.” 

“It's not like I  _ wanna _ be nervous,” Yuugo retorts, but does try to square his shoulders.  Another blinding flash erupts makes his eyes water.

To his deep, unending chagrin, although the competition doesn't formally start until the next day, they still had to go down for a  _ photo session _ .  Commercials, posters, promotional merchandise.  Yuugo had blanched when he realized his face would be plastered all over  _ everything.   _ As the redheaded cameraman instructs him to smile, he quietly mourns his career as an undercover agent. 

“ _ Wow _ ! Beautiful! Just stunning!” The cameraman praises with enthusiasm, shooting Yuugo with another round of rapid-fire flashes that leaves him blinded and disoriented.  “Turn this way, please, Miss. And-- Perfect!” 

The corners of his lips twitch awkwardly as he tries to keep his smile from slipping off his face and he can’t help but wonders if his photos will turn out as stupid as he’s sure he looks. Since Olga had bullied him into letting her ‘do his hair’, now it’s all swept up to the side in waves of tumbling curls that keep falling into his eyes.  He impatiently flips the offending locks back over his shoulder as he tries to do as the cameraman asks, gracelessly pivoting on one foot with his hands on his hips.  

The stage is, of course, stunning; tiered pathways lined with crystals upon a glittering backdrop with thousands of iridescent lights.  He supposes it's a play on the contest name, ‘Miss Universe’ ergo  _ stars _ , but it's starting to hurt his eyes. 

The other girls were all dolled up once again in stunning dresses in various shades of white. Yuugo himself is decked out in a short, backless halter neck dress with an a-line skirt, and his poor feet are crammed into another pair of delicate, strappy heels that bite mercilessly into his Achille's tendons. Unlike the gown that fell modestly past his knees, this one fills him with paranoia. Every time he so much as  _ breathes _ , he can feel the silken fabric fluttering dangerously high against his thighs and he has to squash the urge to tug down the hem. 

“Stop fussing,” his roommate had hissed and swatted his hands away when he made that mistake back on the elevator ride down.  “You’re hardly going to look any  _ prettier _ .” 

In the present, Yuugo heaves a sigh. He hasn't exactly given being  _ pretty  _ much thought before but now he associates it with the giddiness in his belly and the sudden, inexplicable awareness of his own body.  How he looks, how he moves. And the way he can feel eyes on his body, tracking his every movement.  It's an experience that makes Yuugo want to do is crawl under his covers and hide forever, if only to get it to  _ stop _ .

The only consolation is that he has only tripped once so far on his way up to the stage.  

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting with the hem of his detached sleeves as he tries to ignore the glares that are boring holes into his back.  Although everyone is smiling, the air is supercharged with static as sparks flew, unseen by the cameras.  He surreptitiously shuffles to the side even though he knows that a few extra millimetres probably isn't going to do him much good in escaping from the scary sisters’ dissecting eyes.

After what feels like an age of standing on stilts and blinking back tears, the freckled cameraman winks at him before finally moving onto the next girl and Yuugo’s shoulders slump in relief.

Olga shakes her head and those impeccable curls bounce against her shoulders.  Yuugo jealously notes that the pale, luscious strands fall right back into place as he tries to push away his own bangs again.  “And how exactly did you pass the preliminaries, again?” she asks.  Yuugo privately thinks that her accent makes her sound more snobbish than she actually means to be, but he can't begrudge her since he's been asking himself that exact same question all day.  All he can offer her is a helpless shrug, right before his body seizes up when an elegant hand with silver tipped fingers suddenly curls around his shoulder and Grace Tyler's distinctive perfume wafts through the air.

“Good morning, doll,” she purrs sweetly in his ear and he nearly falls flat on his face in his haste to get away.  He gives her a panicked once over before realizing that there is absolutely nowhere safe for his eyes to land so he immediately drops his gaze to the ground and tries to banish the image of her pale, graceful neck and the expanse of snow white skin visible beneath her plunging neckline.  Yuugo gulps quietly and takes a deep breath to steel himself. She's just a girl, he tells himself.  It's not like she can actually  _ do _ anything to him besides make him a bit uncomfortable.  Really, he's had much worse ( like Yuuri. )

“It's not  _ doll _ , it's Yuug--  _ Yuuko _ ,” Yuugo protests automatically.  Then he whimpers when he realizes he nearly  _ blew his own cover _ and shrinks back, covering his face in his hands.  He is  _ so _ bad at this.  So, so bad. Although, the two girls don't look like they caught his slip up; rather, they seem to be sporting a vaguely pitying expressions at seeing Yuugo stumble over his own name.  Beside him, a dark look flickers across Olga's face as she looks from Grace's predatory expression and then to the way Yuugo looks like he's trying to become one with the ground. 

“Good morning,” she echoes brusquely and somehow manages to make a common greeting sound like a threat.  “Tyler, was it?  Did you want something?”  Pale blue eyes narrow as she crosses her arms across her chest and not so subtly steps forward to wedge herself between them, suddenly forming a wall that has Yuugo blinking in surprise.  He ends up staring dumbfoundedly at her back, absently noting that she’s tall enough to completely block him from view.

Even Yuugo can tell that there is something undeniably protective about her stance and the sentiment is both incredibly touching and completely  _ embarrassing _ .  On one hand, Yuugo can count… literally, on one hand, the number of people in his life who would ever even consider being protective of him.  Actually, only Rin made the shortlist since Kurosaki would probably gladly throw him to the dogs just to be rid of him. The jerk. To have Olga, someone he’s only just met, actually stand up for him makes his chest feel all warm and tingly.

But on the other hand,  _ Yuugo _ is supposed to be the one protecting the girls _ ,  _ not need protecting  _ from _ them. And Yuugo really, really does not need to give Kurosaki any more ammunition. 

“Um, Olga?” he speaks up awkwardly, trying to get back around her because he’s starting to get sick of everyone assuming that he’s easy to bully.  He can kill a man in nine different ways using a _kettle!_  He is most certainly _not_ terrified of veiled comments and mean innuendos.  But when Olga turns around to level that cold, severe glare at _him_ , he gulps and decides it’s probably wiser to shut up and just… observe the situation.  That’s what people call a strategic retreat, right?

Grace looks unconcerned at the sudden hostility and continues to smile a beatific smile that can be likened to sunbeams piercing through stormclouds.  She lifts an elegant hand to her lips and lets out a musical giggle, those sharp golden eyes narrowing ever so slightly.  “Good morning to you too, Miss Olga.  Can’t a girl just come by to say hi?”

“Really,” Olga says flatly, unimpressed. “Well, now you’ve said ‘hi’. If there isn’t anything else, Yuuko and I are going back to our room.” 

For a moment, Grace is unnervingly quiet, before her smile turns sharper, but doesn’t lose any of its radiance.  “Why, Miss Olga,” she laughs sweetly, “I never expected you to be to so talented at making jests.  It must be that  _ exotic _ Northern charm of yours. Of course, here in Maiami City, there is more demand for a more… refined charisma.”

“Just what are you implying?” Olga asks crossly, eyes flashing as she takes a step forward. 

Yuugo watches the increasingly chillier exchange with eyes as wide as dinner plates.  The content of it is sort of going over his head, but he can tell from Olga’s stiffening shoulders that Grace seems to have hit a sore spot.  He frowns, his own posture stiffening in response as he finally steps forward, ready to defend his new friend. 

It's so quiet that he nearly misses it; a thin, scrape of metal and a tiny jingle of glass coming from right above them. Without the luxury of thought, Yuugo pushes Olga aside and dives at Grace, locking his arms around her middle and his momentum carries them across the stage.  He doesn't even have time to relish the look of shock on her face before they land, just before the ground beside them erupted in an explosion of glass and noise as the crystal chandelier came crashing down. 

 

The room is a tableau of shock and horror; eyes darting down towards the wreckage of gold and glass, to the two of them, tangled up on the ground.  

 

Yuugo is the first to recover.   Groaning, he pushes himself gingerly onto his elbows and the action sends a cascade of sparkling glass shards tumbling down, hitting the floor with tiny  _ plinks _ .  He wastes no time in scanning the room, eyes sharpening when they land on the breaks in in the chain.  His mind is bombarded with stimuli.  Pulled into so many directions at once as he takes in the horrified murmuring of the onlookers, the positions of the crew. Yuugo shoves himself up on his elbows, twisting his gaze upwards to where the chandelier once hung, but the space is conspicuously empty, clean of any signs of visible tampering.  If it not for the fact that the breaks in the links were too precise to be anything but deliberate.  Yuugo’s breath quickened as adrenaline rushed through his veins as he strains to catch any signs of the culprit. He starts to get up but is stopped by a sudden touch on his face. 

 

“You saved me.”  Beneath him, shaken and pale but alive, Grace is staring up at him with something akin to wonder as she cups his cheek with a trembling hand.  Those gold eyes that had been filled with haughty superiority are now wide and uncertain as delayed horror at the situation slowly sinks in. In that moment, Yuugo finds it impossible to remember why he had been so intimidated by her.  All he can see is a scared, young girl whose life had nearly come to an end just moments ago.

“Grace!” Gloria’s frantic scream shocks the rest of the onlookers out of their frozen stupor and the room is suddenly filled with a flurry of activity and panic as the contestants and the crew rushes to the scene.  The blond girl is running towards them, skirts hiked up carelessly as she kneels next to him, unmindful of the shards that still littered the ground.  She literally flings Yuugo off her sister as she draws Grace into her arms, patting her down in search for injuries.  “Grace, are you hurt?!”

The crew is pouring onto the stage, carefully trying to clear away the debris so they could get to the contestants.  His brain still hasn’t fully processed the situation yet and Kurosaki shouting in his ear isn’t helping at all.  Yuugo lets out a small groan from where he hit the ground as he blinks dazedly over at the two sisters; one of them looks almost rabid with worry while the other looks both embarrassed yet pleased with the attention.  It almost makes him want to smile.  

He did it. He managed to save someone. After such a disastrous start, Yuugo had been more than discouraged. But this success fills him with a tentative optimism.  Maybe, just  _ maybe, _ he  _ can _ do this after all.

 

“Yuuko!”  Yuugo startles when a shrill voice shouts out his name with almost as much concern as Gloria did for Grace and he looks up into frantic blue eyes. “Yuuko, you’re  _ bleeding _ !” 

“Uh?” he asks dumbly before finally noticing that there is a dull throbbing in his calf.  He looks down in bemusement at the wound which is really just a minor scratch; he probably cut himself on a piece of glass on the way down.  He barely even feels it.  In fact, it's probably the lightest injury he's ever received on a mission.  “I'm fine.  It doesn't hurt.”

“Fine?!” Olga repeats. “How can you be fine?  Do you not know how  _ stupid  _ that was? You could have been  _ killed _ !”  For some reason, she looks completely horrified and appalled.  Her hands are clenched so tightly in her dress that Yuugo worries the fabric might tear.  He looks down again and notices that there  _ is _ a fair amount of blood, but it's all superficial.  He's completely functional.  

“ _ Yuugo!  Yuugo, what the hell happened?” _ Kurosaki demands, as if Yuugo can actually verbally answer him back in front of all these people. He winces at the burst of noise pretends to adjust his earring to tap out a half-assed answer.

_ All clear. Talk later. _

Kurosaki is still making displeased noises but Yuugo tunes it out in favour of trying to get his roommate to calm down.  “I'm OK! Really!” he insists.  “See? I can walk and everything--” 

“Don’t. You. Dare.” 

At Olga's terrifying expression, Yuugo sits back down with a bewildered squeak.  Luckily, the medical staff finally get their asses in gear and arrive on the scene.  Yuugo watches with a bit of relief as the rest of the candidates are escorted off and someone even carts over a  _ stretcher.   _ Needless to say, the photo shoot was probably canceled.

He has to consciously stop himself from rolling his eyes at everyone making such a big fuss.  No one died or was even seriously injured.  Well, with any luck, they'll call the whole thing off and Yuugo could take off this stupid dress and go home.  He casts his gaze around in one last attempt to see if he could get any leads but the scene is now a complete mess, thanks to everyone running around.  Yuugo lets out a sigh.  There's no question now that there was foul play at hand.  But there's no telling at this point  _ who _ was responsible. Canceling the event here wouldn’t change the fact that there's a  _ psycho _ out there who really hates beauty pageants.  If the girls continued to targeted, Yuugo might be stuck competing in these things indefinitely.  At this point, they have nothing to go on.  No motive, no suspects.  Just a trail of misfortune.

Speaking of misfortunes, Yuugo makes the mistake of letting his eyes linger just a tad too long on a certain contestant’s retreating back.

 

Yuuri had been on the far end of the stage and so Yuugo hadn't been able get a good look at her before.   Her long, pink and violet tresses were arranged in an elaborate braid, with wispy strands delicately framing her face and neck. Unlike Yuugo’s too-short skirts that are  _ still  _ riding up dangerously, Yuuri’s chosen dress was long and elegant, falling around her slim figure in pale waves of lilac.  And it was completely backless.

Yuugo swallows reflexively, hands turning clammy for absolutely no good reason as his traitorous face starts heating up again, his cheeks tingling from the phantom caress of Yuuri’s elegant hands.  The memory of the previous night spills into the present with vivid clarity; he can feel his back pressed against the wall, the warmth of Yuuri’s skin, the whisper of silk as their clothes slid together.   If he closes his eyes, he thinks he can almost smell lavender. 

To his dismay, as if possessing some kind of sixth sense, Yuuri turns, meeting his eyes unerringly with those uncanny reptilian eyes. Yuugo finds himself transfixed once more, watching in horrified fascination as her lips slowly curve up into a knowing smile.  Yuugo flinches back as if burned, before he hurriedly rips his eyes away from the bewitching sight.  Kurosaki is absolutely right, he laments. He's a  _ fucking idiot.   _ What the  _ heck _ is he doing, staring at her like… like an idiot!  One is suppose to  _ run away _ from terrifying things, not stare at them like some stupid starstruck moron!

 

“... even listening to me?!” Olga’s irritated voice suddenly fills his ears but he's too appalled to give her a verbal response.

Too distracted from his early midlife crisis, Yuugo fails to notice the figure approaching them until it's too late.  He yelps when a pair of strong, sturdy arms suddenly loops around his waist and under his knees and he finds himself lifted bodily into the air and held against a well-defined chest. A pair of friendly eyes peers down at him from behind a mass of red curls.

“Allow me, Miss Yuuko,” the vaguely familiar man says in smooth, reassuring tones. It takes him a while to place him as the cameraman who has been bossing him around.  He's young, with one of those  _ unfairly _ handsome faces. Yuugo can't help but stare at with envy at his boyish good looks and well-defined jawline.  “We’ll get your leg patched up in no time. Who knew such delicate young lady was actually a superhero in disguise?”  The redhead shoots him a friendly wink to show him he was joking but Yuugo’s heart starts hammering all the same when it hits far too close to home. 

“W-What, no!” he squawks, waving his hands in denial.  “I'm definitely not a superhero or anything like that! N-Nah, I'm just a plain old,  _ ordinary  _ gu- _ girl _ !” 

“No, no! You were  _ amazing _ !  Not many would put themselves in danger like that.  Don't sell yourself short.  Now, let's go get you patched up, okay?” came the gentle reprimand. Yuugo can't help but feel a surge of embarrassment at the sudden praise.  But a  _ very _ tiny part of him is strangely pleased.  The redhead’s smile is warm and encouraging and for some odd reason, Yuugo’s heart suddenly skips a beat.  He looks up into his eyes and notices that they are blue.  Like a cloudless sky after a sunshower.  Very blue and very  _ close. _

 

_ Too close. _

 

Yuugo flushes beet red when it finally hits him that he's being held in a  _ bridal carry _ by another  _ man _ and nearly punches him in his perfect face out of horror.  “Wait, wait, wait,” he panics, shoving at his arms.  “I’m fine! Really!  Really, I don't need to be carried! Let me down!!”   

The redhead only smiles at him and proceeds to ignore his increasingly unhappy protests as he carries him off the stage. “It's no trouble at all,” he says, still beaming that sweet, sunshine-bright smile as he misinterprets the source of Yuugo’s dismay.  “There's no way I could just stand by and make a delicate young lady walk with an injury like that. And you're as light as a feather.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuugo can see some of the assistants pointing and whispering and his whole face burns with humiliation.  Desperate, he casts his gaze around for Olga, his friend and the only voice of reason, only to see her smirking at him. 

“Don’t do anything else stupid, alright?” she says dryly with an exasperated shake of her head.   “I'll see you back at our room." She then turns thank the cameraman, but only after delivering a stern warning about not dropping Yuugo or doing anything unprofessional with his hands.  Yuugo watches her go with despair. 

“Friendly, isn't she?” The redhead gives a light laugh as he walks.  The stage crew seems to have finally gotten themselves together and the shattered remains of the chandelier is nearly gone, along with any trace of the crime scene.   “You're lucky to have a friend like her.”  

Yuugo nods glumly.  His would-be kidnapper’s grip manages to be both gentle and considerate and completely unbreakable.  For now, he gives up on an escape in favour of burying his face in his hands and trying not to die of embarrassment.  

 


	6. Give it Your Best Shot

“Where are we going, exactly?” Yuugo remembers to ask only after they exit into the halls backstage.  A quick glance around tells him that they are veering slightly away from the main crew, to turn into one of the many twisty and over-extravagant corridors.  

“Just to the infirmary,” the cameraman says cheerfully.  “There is one attached to the hotel because events like this are bound to run into a few mishaps.  Mostly, it's used for the crew, but I figured we can get you seen to without a lot of fuss.”  Then he lowers his voice to a hush.  “Personally, I think the higher ups don't want to broadcast that they had an accident.”  

Not having more fuss sounds good to Yuugo.  He flushes again when he remembers all of that fuss they had been making over them.  Well, mostly Grace.  He remembers seeing them load her onto the stretcher with her sister clutching her hand and a grimness on her face like she was about to keel over. Yuugo shudders to think about being subjected to that much fussing. 

Although… 

“Is that where they're taking Grace too?” he asks, straining around to take a better look.  He furrows his brows minutely when he realizes that the hall is emptier than it was just a few turns ago.  Where did all the staff go? 

“Miss Grace is being taken directly to her father’s hospital,” the redhead explains.  “It looks like she had quite a scare.  But she seems to have no other injuries.”

“Oh,” Yuugo says with a little relief. “That's good.”  But that doesn't shake the little inkling of worry that is forming in the back of his head.  “Um… Mr…?” 

“Dennis,” the cameraman introduces.  “At your service.” 

“Mr. Dennis,” Yuugo says hesitantly. He doesn't know much about pageants or showbiz or much of anything, but this is not exactly protocol, is it?   “Uh, no offense or anything but… isn't there a medical person who should be doing this?  And… you don't really look like crew.” 

Now that Yuugo takes a closer look, Dennis seems to be dressed far more nicely than most of the other stagehands.  He's wearing a smart, grey waistcoat over a crisp white shirt and expensive leather gloves adorn his hands.

“Oh?” Dennis says, as his smile turns just a bit sly.  “You have a good eye, Miss Yuuko. You’re absolutely right. I’m not part of the crew, more of an outside contractor.” 

Yuugo stiffens.  “Uh. Come again?” He smiles almost afraid to ask as that little thread of suspicion begins to grow. 

Dennis smiles again and the interplay of shadows across his handsome features casts it in a sinister light. “Mmhmm.  And I must admit that I’ve been hoping for a chance to get you alone.”

“Why?” Yuugo asks slowly.  If that isn't suspicious, Yuugo would eat his pointlessly strappy heels.  All of a sudden he's suddenly aware that he had gone off with a complete  _ stranger _ and he doesn't even have a gun.  Oh, and his dress is  _ still _ riding up like no one's business. Yuugo subtly curls his fingers, readying himself to punch him between the eyes if he doesn't like his answer.

Dennis laughs brightly, cutting through the tension like it had never been there.  He beams down at him so guilelessly that Yuugo thinks he must have imagined that earlier darkness. Yuugo is left blinking dumbfoundedly when the redhead suddenly produces a rose out of thin air and presses it into his hands. “Because who  _ wouldn't  _ want to steal away such a lovely young lady? Haha, all jokes aside, I actually wanted to scout you. How would you like to work as a model?”

Huh?

“Huh?!” 

Dennis’s smile grows several shades more charming as he leans in closer.  “It's been a long time since I've met anyone I've felt so inspired by!  There's just something about you, Miss Yuuko.  You're not like the other girls I've shot.  You're just so genuine and unpolished.  How about it?”

“Um,” Yuugo says as he promptly breaks out in a cold sweat. “Wait, when you say  _ shot _ , what do you--?”

“ _ Yuuko _ .” A chilling and all too familiar voice suddenly cuts in and Yuugo throws himself backward in a panic when he realizes it's  _ not _ coming from his earpiece. He swivels.  

And sure enough, the grim messenger of doom and gloom himself is standing before them in the flesh, darkening the entrance to the infirmary.

“What the heck are you doing here?!” Yuugo blurts out before he can help himself, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Kurosaki’s long, disheveled bangs are neatly brushed back and there are a set of square-rimmed  _ glasses _ perched on his nose like they had every right to be there.  He's dressed in a sharp, crisp suit, complete with a  _ tie _ , and for a moment, he actually looks like a respectable human being. Without his hair falling into his face, Yuugo notices for the first time that the man he thought of as  _ Dracula  _ was actually not bad to look at.  Though the crease in his brow and cold-blooded stare somewhat detracts from that.  

At Yuugo’s thoughtless outburst, he looks even more displeased but his expression suddenly smooths over into a blank-faced mask.  He stalks over to them with brisk strides, crossing the foyer in a heartbeat and comes to a stop just before them and holds out his hands.

“Good work.  I will take her from here,” he says in a vaguely threatening deadpan. Yuugo’s jaw drops as he stares blankly up at the alien who replaced Kurosaki.  

Dennis keeps a secure hold on Yuugo for some reason.  “And who might you be, Mr...?” he asks, flashing a charming smile. 

Kurosaki’s frown deepens into dangerous levels and Yuugo still can't figure out  _ what the hell he's doing here.  _ There is a  _ reason  _ why the two of them were a  _ strike  _ team, not recon agents.   It's bad enough they stuck  _ Yuugo _ on an undercover job. 

“I'm Takanashi. Takanashi Shiro.  Her manager,” Kurosaki somehow introduces himself with a straight face and Yuugo stares at him blankly for a full five seconds, mouth agape at his obvious choice of codename.   _ Takanashi _ , roughly translates to ‘where there are no eagles’.  He might as well have just called himself ‘Not-Kurosaki’!

“Oh, really?” Dennis, on the other hand, looks oddly delighted.  “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Takanashi. And Miss Yuuko, why didn't you tell me you were already spoken for, hm? May I ask which agency are you from?”  Yuugo nearly panics all over again before he realizes Dennis had meant  _ talent _ agency.

“You wouldn't have heard of it,” Kurosaki says coldly, and Yuugo makes the mistake of catching his eye. He swallows quietly and sinks further down into Dennis’s arms, deciding that the best course of action now is to  _ shut up _ and try not to be noticed.  And really, the highly suspicious cameraman is the lesser of two evils at this point. Kurosaki looks as pleased as Yuuri looks harmless.  Which is not in the slightest.  Kurosaki makes another impatient noise as he not so subtly indicates his still outstretched hands. 

“Hm? Ah, right.  Here you are, Miss Yuuko,” Dennis says, seemingly unaffected by Kurosaki’s  _ Kurosaki-ness,  _ and steps forward to gently transfer Yuugo into his handler’s thin, bony arms and Yuugo nearly sobs in revulsion.  He can feel Kurosaki’s skeletal arms tighten around him to the point of being painful and he digs his manicured nails into his forearm in retaliation.

“Uh. Thanks,” Yuugo says half-heartedly to the cameraman for the entirely unwanted help as he subtly gestures for his partner to let him down.  He does not. Instead, it looks like the birdbrain is completely ignoring him in favour of glowering at Dennis. 

“But you might be surprised,” Dennis says, this time addressing Kurosaki with a light laugh and his red curls bounce merrily against his shoulders. “I might not look like it, but I do get around a lot. After all, I am a very good shot.” 

Kurosaki doesn't visibly stiffen, but Yuugo can feel the temperature drop by several degrees.  “Oh, really?” he asks mildly, but Yuugo can see his trigger finger twitching and a sense of alarm suddenly flares up. 

Faster than they could react, since they were  _ undercover damn it, _ Dennis reaches into his jacket… and pulls out a card.  Laughing, he flicks it over at them with a casual snap of his fingers and Kurosaki catches it with a dumbfounded expression on his face and Yuugo half expects it to explode.

It turns out to be a business card with the words  _ Macfield Productions  _ emblazoned over it in golden cursive.

“It's Macfield.  Dennis Macfield.  Professional photographer,” the redhead says as he sketches a bow.  “Specializing in capturing timeless beauties like yourselves.  On camera, of course.” 

Kurosaki manages to look even less amused but at least he's not reaching for his gun anymore.  

“Oh,” Yuugo says with a laugh that comes out entirely too nervous.  “You were making a joke.  Aha… ha… ha...”  He quickly stops laughing when he spies Kurosaki’s withering glare and stares at the suddenly fascinating patterns on the ceiling.  But at least the tension seems to have lifted and no one is about to get shot or captured. Probably. 

It's almost impressive how Dennis’s smile never faltered once in the face of Yuugo’s awkwardness and Kurosaki’s Kurosaki-ness.  That's showbiz for you.  “I'm afraid I must take my leave now,” he says with what seems like genuine regret.   “It was a pleasure to escort you, Miss Yuuko. I hope you’ll make a speedy recovery… and consider my offer. And I hope I will be seeing _you_ around too, Mr. Takanashi.” 

Yuugo waves half-heartedly while Kurosaki glares all the way until Dennis disappears around the corner and out of earshot.  

“Well, he was nice?” Yuugo says at the same time Kurosaki hisses, “Fucking  _ clown _ .” 

“Uh, right.”  Yuugo coughs and decides it's not worth his sanity to figure out what had gotten Kuro-sucky’s knickers in a bunch  _ this _ time since there are far more pressing matters.  

Like  _ why the fuck hasn't he let him down yet _ .

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Yuugo takes a deep breath and after making sure no one else was coming down the hall, slammed the pointy part of his elbow into Kurosaki’s gut.  His handler grunts and staggers back and Yuugo takes the chance to hook a leg around his neck in a classic choke and throws his weight backwards.

Of course, Kurosaki doesn't take that lying down.  Literally.  In less than a second after they both hit the ground, Kurosaki reverses their positions with a demented look in his eyes and Yuugo finds himself flat on his back, groaning at the bony knee pressing him into the ground and cutting off his air.  He pats the ground hurriedly and Kurosaki removes himself, leaving him winded and sporting far more bruises than he started out with.

But at least Yuugo isn't being carried like a _princess_ anymore. 

“What the hell,” Kurosaki scowls as he reaches up to adjust his fake glasses and Yuugo thinks it makes him look ridiculous.  Like a vampire butler. 

“That's my line!” he says, glaring daggers up at him.  “What the hell are you even  _ doing _ here, Kurosaki? I had everything  _ under control.”  _

Sort of. Maybe.

“You weren't  _ reporting in _ ,” Kurosaki grits out impatiently as he reaches down to grab him by the collar of his flimsy dress and drags him into one of the empty offices and slams the door shut.

“Whoa, watch it!” Yuugo shrieks as he tries to pry his fingers off.  “You're gonna rip my dress, you feather-brained gorilla!” 

Kurosaki stops dragging him long enough to shoot him a scandalized look.  “I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that,” he says, just before tossing him at the bed. “Now, talk. What happened? We couldn't get a clear visual.” 

“‘What happened’?” Yuugo sputters after getting a mouthful of hospital sheets.  “What happened is that one of those girls nearly got squashed  _ flat _ !  What the hell are your people doing? Weren't they supposed to be keeping an eye on things?!”

If anything, Kurosaki’s sour expression sours even further. “Tch,” is all he offers him as he crosses his arms.  Then he turns his head away like  _ Yuugo _ ’s the one who’s fucking up his job.  Yuugo takes a deep breath and holds it while he counts to ten.  Then he starts over.  

It doesn’t make him any calmer, but it does make him dizzy enough that he’s not about to do something really stupid, like jumping on Kurosaki to punch his face in. He’s actually proud of himself when his next question comes out only half as pissed off as he feels. “And what the  _ fuck  _ is that supposed to mean?”

Luckily for Kurosaki’s ugly mug, he finally deigns to answer him, scowling like every word tastes rancid.  “The owner,” he practically spits, “Doesn’t want us to put any more agents on the job.  Fat bastard was worried that it would interfere with his  _ show _ .  Which means no additional surveillance and no backup.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Yuugo says, gaping.  “This… This isn’t… There are  _ seven _ contestants.  But there’s only  _ one _ of me!  How the heck am I supposed to protect them all from some crazy psycho killer that can drop  _ chandeliers _ on people without anyone noticing?!”

Kurosaki’s gaze turns sharp.  “So you  _ didn’t _ see anything?” he asks and Yuugo bristles when it makes it sound like it’s a personal failing.

“Sorry, I was too busy  _ saving a girl’s life _ ,” he hisses, reaching blindly for something to throw at him.  Preferably surgery scissors. Something to redecorate that stupid, frowning face.  “There were too many damn people running around.  But I know someone cut that chain. It looked professional _. _ ”

“Which still rules out… absolutely no one,” Kurosaki says stiffly.  He grunts like a gorilla masquerading as a human being and cards his fingers through his hair.  (Yuugo refuses to admit that it looked sort of good swept up like that. Because he’s not actually a masochist.)  “You’ve been with them long enough.  Does anyone stand out as suspicious?”

Yuugo stubbornly wills his cheeks to not turn red when the question immediately makes him think of smouldering magenta eyes and sly, knowing smiles that made his skin crawl for various reasons. Yuuri with her cold, unnerving beauty and overall feeling of wrongness.

“... a couple,” Yuugo says evasively, turning away from his handler with a huff.  It’s not like Kurosaki shares anything with him, so why should he?  “I mean, that Dennis guy was kind of suspicious.”

“There’s no way anyone with hair like  _ that  _ could be a  _ professional _ ,” Kurosaki scoffs like he has any room to criticize and Yuugo’s eyes roll so hard that he almost makes himself dizzy again.  He seems unusually fixated on the redhead for some reason.  Not that Yuugo cares.  It probably all makes sense in Kurosaki’s little Kurosaki-brain. 

“ _ Riiiiight _ ,” he says, elongated syllables and all. “Can I go now?  And you  _ still _ didn’t tell me why the heck you thought you needed to come out here just to harass me in person.”  Kurosaki shoots him a scathing look that makes Yuugo’s throat close up on instinct and he backpedals into the hospital bed because he can’t be sure that his crazy handler wouldn’t actually snap one of these days and murder him.

Without warning, Kurosaki snags him by the ankle and pushes aside the folds of his skirt.  Yuugo shrieks and kicks out because that is as good as proof that Kurosaki really had gone nuts.  “What… what the  _ fuck  _ are you doing?!”

“Hold still.   _ Idiot _ .”

Yuugo opens his mouth to protest, only to cut himself off at the sharp, familiar sting of the disinfectant against the wound on his leg. His gaze drops down to the disorienting sight of Kurosaki wiping the mostly dried blood away with a piece of medical gauze. Struck speechless, Yuugo could only watch as Kurosaki continued to work with that unchanging, angry expression and he only finds his voice after he finishes winding the bandage around his calf and tying it off. 

“You need to stop being so reckless.”  Kurosaki doesn’t waste any time in scolding him and that’s nothing new.  What  _ is _ new is that Yuugo thinks he detects a faint hint of something that resembles  _ concern.  _

“Um,” he says eloquently, his cheeks tinged with red as his brain works furiously to come to terms with this bizarre show of…  _ concern _ .  He gazes up at Kurosaki’s strange, gold eyes and wondered if they had ever looked so… not-prickly.  Could it be?  Could Kurosaki actually be a nice guy under all that asshole-ness--

 

“But what kind of man would I be if I left such a  _ delicate young lady _ fend for herself?”  

_ Nope _ , Yuugo backtracks furiously when Kurosaki freaking  _ smirks  _ at him. Nope!  Definitely still an asshole!

 

“ _Fuck you_. Kurosaki.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
>  
> 
> (also i love shunxyuugo)


	7. Wake Up Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuugo discovers something about Yuuri and himself.

Yuugo never thought he would be relieved to be back at the hotel with the other... girls, but after that horrible, awkward affair, he is looking forward to climbing into his soft, feathery bed.  Kurosaki made him fill out _paperwork_.  The jerk.  By the time he actually finished, the sun had long since slipped beneath the horizon.

 

That relief is short lived however, because he was immediately assaulted upon arriving at the floor.

 

“Mmfgh?!” he exclaims, but his voice is muffled by the generous bosom crushing his face. He flails and shoves at the arms trapping him in place, but the embrace only tightens.  

 

“My little hero,” a sweet voice gushes and Yuugo dimly recognizes it as Grace.  Just as his face starts to turn blue, she releases him but only so she can lean down and pepper his cheeks with twin kisses. It seems like she had gotten over her near death experience and is back to her normal, Yuuko-bullying self.  But this time, he notes as he stares blearily up at her, her eyes are shining with gratitude.  “I simply can’t thank you enough for what you did, risking your life for little old me.”

 

“It’s nothing,” Yuugo stammers, disoriented at the sudden one-eighty in personality.  “I mean, it’s not like I wanted you to get hurt or anything.”

 

Grace blinks once and for some strange reason, a pink flush spreads across her pale cheeks. “Oh, that is the _sweetest_ thing anyone has ever said to me!” she cries, squishing him closer against his alarmed objections.  “We’re going to be such good friends now, I’m sure.”

 

Her words send a chill down Yuugo’s spine because he really doesn’t want to be her friend.   _Nope_.  She might be pretty and glamourous, but Yuugo isn't at all fooled.  He opens his mouth to firmly reject her extended hand of friendship but what comes out of his mouth instead is a startled yelp when she suddenly yanks him into her chest.He flails around for a bit, eyes darting around in search of help and land on Gloria.  Yuugo tenses but to his great relief, the second sister is glaring spitefully at him and shows absolutely no signs of suddenly wanting to hug him.

 

As Yuugo continues to squirm for freedom, Gloria’s scowl deepens until she firmly marches up and yanks him out of her sister’s arms.

 

“That's enough of that,” she says bluntly as Grace pouts and Yuugo gasps for breath.  Dimly, he wonders if Grace might actually be the killer, judging from how intent she is on smothering him.

 

Still beaming and unaware of his less than charitable thoughts, Grace takes a step closer and takes both of his hands before he can react.  “I thought we should all get to know each other better.  We didn't get to do proper introductions yet, did we?”

 

“Um,” says Yuugo and thinks back to the hectic first night and the mad scramble in the morning to get ready for the shoot and concedes her point.  Though, it also made him remember exactly  _why_ he hadn't stuck around long enough to properly meet the girls he was supposed to be protecting.

 

His body involuntarily stiffens at the ghostly remembrance of petal-soft lips gliding across his cheek, paired with the sweet fragrance of lavender, the vibration of Yuuri’s throat as she hums against his skin…

 

“Yuuko?  You okay? You look really red!”

 

Yuugo is startled out of his _weird, traumatic_ flashback just in time to see Grace hovering over him worriedly with Gloria glowering behind her and he jumps back before she can press their foreheads together.   “Fine! I'm fine!”  He's not fine.  But he waves her concern away and scuttles out of reach before she can grab him again.  “I, uh, the doctor said I need. Uh.  Bedrest. Yeah. Maybe some other time!”

 

“Aw, Yuuko, wait,” Grace whines but Yuugo pretends very hard that he doesn’t hear her and flees from the room as fast as he can manage on his stupidly wobbly heels.

 

Aside from tripping on the door frame on his way out, Yuugo makes it down the corridor to his room without incident.  Safe and unmolested. He definitely doesn't keep an eye out for long, violet tresses nor does he feel a little twinge in his stomach when he doesn't find them.   

 

(If he looks at all, he rationalizes, it must be out of self-preservation.  The way you would check your bed for spiders or gun-toting assassins before you climbed in.  Or snakes. Big, venomous snakes with slitted pupils and poisonous purple scales.  Yuugo would have to be some kind of masochist to _look forward_ to finding a snake in his bed.)

 

Yuugo throws open the door to his room with relief and quickly closes it.  The first thing he does is tug off his ridiculous shoes and set them by the side of the door since he had gotten yelled at that morning when Olga ended up tripping over one of them.  “Olga, I’m back,” he calls out, looking around for his roommate, but the other side of the room is empty.  He can see her dress from the morning neatly folded on the bed and her makeup kit open by the dresser.  Yuugo figures she’s in the bathroom again since the lights are on and wanders back over to his side of the room to look for something less dangerous to change into.

 

He hurriedly dives into his suitcase to pull out another pair of those horrible pajamas that Kurosaki must have crammed inside just to torment him and hastily throws them on before his roommate could come out and see his lack of proper girl parts.  In a rare spot of luck, Olga _doesn’t_ barge in the middle of him trying to unhook his bra and he counts it as a small victory in his rather shit day.  Between murderous ceiling lamps and Kuro-shitty showing up unannounced, Yuugo is thoroughly knackered.

 

Stifling a yawn, he crawls over to his bed and melts into it as he waits for his roommate to finish washing up.  But Olga seems to be taking her sweet time with her shower because Yuugo only remembers drifting off to the sound of running water.

 

* * *

  


The next day, Yuugo awakens to sun rays stabbing his eyes and a dip in his bed that shouldn't be there.  

 

With horror running through his veins in place of blood, Yuugo slowly turns over.

 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Yuuri greets as she reclines next to him and looks perfectly at home in his personal bubble.  

 

Yuugo lets out a scream so high pitched that would have had his boot camp instructors crying with pride, before toppling off the bed in a disgraceful tangle of limbs and misery.  He groans weakly, clutching his head with both hands.  He doesn’t stay down for long, leaping to his feet and instinctively snatching up the pillow he had been spooning and brandishes it in front of him like a weapon.

 

“What,” he hisses, “are you _doing_ in here?!”

 

Instead of answering him, Yuuri stretches out luxuriously over the bed like she owned it too, slowly lacing her fingers together above her head and curving her spine back.  All the while moaning in a way that was almost indecent.  She gazes up at him coyly through mascara-thickened lashes and her thin lips curve into one of her rotten smiles.  “Where else would I be, if not my by dear little sister’s side?”

 

“... are you being creepy on _purpose_?!” Yuugo blurts out after several beats of repulsed silence. Naturally, he takes a step back.

 

There must be something very wrong with the world if someone as _unsettling_ as Yuuri can have a face like _that._ Today, she looks just as unfairly beautiful in a short, wine-red sundress that left her long, pale legs mostly bare.  Her long, violet hair elegantly pulled back into two loose tails and held in place with a clip of fresh roses.  

 

Next to her, with his terrible bedhead, smudged day-old makeup and pillow lines in his cheeks, Yuugo looks like a right mess. It also doesn’t help that a night of fitful dreams featuring sibilant whispers and monstrous eyes has left his nerves rather frayed.

 

“Since you weren't at breakfast,” Yuuri says like she hadn’t heard him speak. “I figured my poor little Yuuko would be starving by now.”

 

“I’m not your poor little anything,” Yuugo tells her firmly before he frowns, only noticing the hunger pangs for the first time. “Wait, breakfast?” He squints out at the skyline through the window.  No wonder the sun was so disgustingly bright.

 

“Mhm,” Yuuri hums and languidly rolls onto her stomach with her chin propped up in her hands. “It's nearly noon. You ought to get ready.  Or were you planning to spend the day in your _adorable_ little pajamas?”

 

Yuugo follows her gaze down and flushes crimson. “S-Shut up!” he exclaims, furiously hugging the pillow to his chest like a shield.

 

He tugs at the hem of his stupidly frilly top and drags it down over his stomach again because the cursed thing would _not_ stop riding up. Something else nags at him, though, like a persistent itching in the back of his head. “How d’you get in here anyway?! And where's Olga?”

 

“Olga? Already on first name basis, are we?” Yuuri mock sighs, kicking her feet idly behind her.  Paired with her girlish pigtails, there is something almost childish about her.  “How nice.  Why don't you use _my_ name more often, _Yuuko_?”

 

“Stop that,” Yuugo says. No way is he going to get himself dragged into her games again.  He's supposed to be working, which means he should be with the other candidates.  He's really off to a shit start.   

 

He shuffles over to his suitcase and unlocks it, all the while keeping Yuuri in his sights at all times, the way you would keep track of a large, venomous spider.  He grabs one of the “casual dresses” out it and retreats to the bathroom to change, only stopping to stick his head back out to say, “And don't touch anything!”

 

With that, he slams the door closed and bolts it. And then he jams a chair under the knob for good measure.

 

Not that he thinks it will actually stop anyone who's  determined enough.  He buries his face in his hands as he realizes just how vulnerable they all were.  Yuuri could have easily sauntered in and slit his throat and he wouldn't be any wiser.  And dead.  

 

It is a cold, sobering thought.

 

“Why the _fuck_ didn't you wake me up?” he hisses accusingly, glaring at his reflection with red-rimmed eyes.  His cheeks flame as his brain revisits the scene and his fingers dig hard into the marble counter top. “You. You thought it was funny wasn't it?! That's… that's harassment!”

 

“Not for a lack of trying.  And she wasn't actually doing anything,” his handler’s dry voice rings in his ears. He sounds even more sarcastic than usual. “Olga woke around eight and left the door open.  That girl just wandered in about half past ten.”

 

“You mean,” Yuugo says, quietly doing the math on his fingers, “She was watching me sleep for half an hour?!”

 

Kurosaki answers with an entirely unsympathetic grunt like he had way better things to do than spare Yuugo the slightest hint of concern. Typical. “Just focus on your goddamn job.  You’re wasting daylight.”

 

Yuugo sucks in a deep breath and reaches for his favourite calming visualization technique; the one where he shoves his foot right up Kurosaki’s ass.  “Sure, whatever,” he says, sounding very, very relaxed.  “So what’s the plan, _manager_?”

 

The faint groan of disgust blaring over his earbuds makes him smirk in triumphant.  “Nothing. They’re delaying the official start until tomorrow. The owner was… persuaded to go over the set to make sure no other ‘accidents’ will happen.”  

 

“Huh, guess that makes sense.”  And he can probably guess just who decided to kick up a fuss.  “So what am I supposed to be doing until then? Can I come back to HQ? Please? Pretty please?” Sensing an opportunity to not have to spend the entire day in a dress, Yuugo immediately jumps at the chance.  

 

“No,” Kurosaki dashes all of his hopes and dreams with one flat syllable. “The killer can strike at any time. Lay low and keep an eye on the other contestants.”

 

Yuugo crumples. “But… what if I do your paperwork? I can forge your signature pretty good.”

 

“You can _what_?”

 

“Uh, on second thought. Yeah. I’ll just stay here. Keep an eye out. For stuff.”

 

“Yuugo-”

 

Yuugo switches off his mic quickly and breathes a sigh of relief. But that relief is short-lived when he hears that smooth, sibilant voice through the door.

 

“You okay in there, darling?”

 

“Y-Yeah! I’m fine!”

 

Yuugo hastily turns on the tap and starts to splash water on his face, wrinkling his nose as he inspects the smeared mascara on his eyelids.  He’s surprised Yuuri hadn’t taken one look at his face and ran for the hills.  

 

From what he can remember of the traumatic briefings that had been forced to sit through, the pageant was supposed to span several weeks.  Even though the main events would only be held every Friday, the rest of the time would be filled with dumb competitions and variety-type shows to supposedly ‘humanize’ the competitors and drag out the TV ratings.  Something new this year which Yuugo is certain serves no other purpose than to prolong his inevitable suffering.

 

He grooms himself as fast as he can, his heart in his throat the entire time with the unsettling knowledge that there’s a beautiful, terrifying _Yuuri_ on the other side of that door. He painstakingly applies his makeup, wracking his brain for all the beauty tips that Olga had pelted him with the other day.  Something about even foundations and blending his contouring and _not_ using dark eyeshadow or else he’ll look like a harlot. After what feels like an age, he finally feels presentable enough to step outside.

 

Yuugo peers around the door, his heart hammering in his chest as he surveys the room and finds it distressingly empty.  He frowns, stepping out all the way and almost immediately has a minor heart attack when Yuuri giggles into his ear.

 

“You take your time primping, don’t you?” Yuuri teases, that unsettling smile growing wider when Yuugo jumps back in fright since she’s leaning casually by the doorway like it isn’t creepy and weird to be hanging out next to someone else’s bathroom.  

 

“You- what are you doing?” Yuugo clutches his chest and demands in a high-pitched squeak that Rin would have been proud of.

 

Yuuri’s lips curl into a pout that is obviously feigned. “Well, you said I couldn’t touch anything so I just waited for you here.  And you look so very adorable, by the way.  Now, shall we go down to breakfast?”

 

Yuugo eyes the arm she offers him with like it’s a particularly venomous snake.  But he doesn't exactly get a choice in the matter when those delicately manicured fingers grasps his arm and Yuuri ends up pressing her chest against him.  His mind goes a bit blank and they're already halfway down the elevator before he comes to.  

 

He stiffens, inhaling sharply when he realizes that he's essentially trapped in with her in a small metal deathtrap.  He really hates elevators. There's so many ways you can die in one.

 

“So,” Yuuri says and Yuugo startles because no one can get used to having that low, sibilant purr right in their _ear._ “It seems like you had quite an adventure yesterday.”

 

Yuugo looks at him blankly for a moment. “Oh! Oh, you mean the thing with Grace?” It took him a while to remember that for most people, getting smushed by falling light fixtures isn't a normal part of everyday life.  “Uh. Yeah. I guess so?”

 

Yuuri sighs theatrically. “Your big sister was so _terribly_ worried about you when you didn't come back. And yet, you never came by to visit me when you got released.”

 

“Uh,” says Yuugo, breaking out into a cold sweat as her lips curl into a sly grin. “I’m sorry? Hey, wait, you're _not_ my big sister!  I don't have a sister!”

 

“Tut, tut, you’ll break my heart,” Yuuri scolds and Yuugo suddenly finds himself pressed against the mirrored glass with Yuuri’s lips a hairsbreadth away from his own.  “You're such a bad girl, _Yuuko_.”

 

Yuugo squawks, hands scrambling for purchase on the smooth pane and he ends up grabbing onto Yuuri’s shoulders to stop her from leaning in any more. “W-wait, your face!  Your face is too close! Cut it out!”

 

“You don't like my face?” Yuuri’s red lips are drawn into a pout but those reptilian eyes are flashing with amusement.  “Such hurtful things coming from such a cute little mouth. Maybe you need more punishment.”

 

This, Yuugo thinks, definitely counts as harassment. And why is it that the only time girls ever show interest in him is when he's in a fucking dress?!

 

“Wait, but. But.  We’re both… girls?”

 

“And?” Yuuri laughs, her breath ghosting over his cheek.  “My, what an adorably antiquated way of thinking. Why should something like that matter?”

 

Yuugo’s brain shuts down for good. Unfortunately, the last, final thoughts he managed to squeeze out of it ends up being _oh my god she's gay_ along with _does this make ME gay_.  He doesn't have much time at all to ponder over it anymore because Yuuri is kissing him.

  
  
  



End file.
